From Mori to Smellerbee
by DeepAzulaEyes
Summary: Before she was the Freedom Fighters' Smellerbee, she was Mori, daughter of a wealthy Earth Kingdom merchant. When the Fire Nation came to town, one powerful general's interest in Mori's sister, Kohana, changed Mori's world forever.
1. Childhood

Chapter 1: Childhood

The little girl was lying in the sweet-scented garden flowers when she heard a rustling in the bushes. She looked up, alarmed, but as she did so the movement and noise stopped. She laid back down again, stretching, feeling the sunshine on her face, lost in dreams of fairy-tales. She sighed and was about to let herself drift off to sleep when –

"YAHHHHH!!!"

She heard a fierce battle cry and felt something heavy land on her chest, pinning her to the ground.

"Hiya, Koko!"

It was her little sister, grinning, twigs and leaves tangled in her untamable hair. Her face was smudged with dirt, but she looked like nothing made her happier than scaring her big sister half to death.

Her big sister did not take so kindly to it.

"Get _off_!" she shrieked. "Don't _do_ that!" Kohana – that was her full name – pushed her five-year-old sister off of her chest and stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "You're _unbearably_ annoying!" she said with as much indignation as her high-pitched, eight-year-old voice could muster.

"Aww, Koko, I was just playing!" her little sister replied, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Well I don't _like_ it!" Kohana said. "Look at you," she added, examining her sister. "You look like a forest urchin!"

"I'm queen of the garden!" The little girl corrected, puffing out her chest and striking a regal pose.

"With a crown of bumbleweed?" Kohana asked, looking skeptically at the black and yellow wildflowers her sister had fashioned into a ring and was now wearing proudly on her head. "Mori, you look more like the queen of the bumblebees!"

She meant it to be an insult, but Mori just smiled and said, "Buzz, buzz!" She spread her arms like wings and then zoomed away, diving into the bushes, back into her own little world.

**:–:–:–:**

"You're late," her mother scolded with a smile. Not because she didn't mind her daughter's tardiness, but because she didn't want the servants to think them an argumentative family.

"Sorry," Mori said as she sunk into her chair at the dining room table.

"We've been _waiting_ for you so we could start the meal," Kohana said.

"Kohana," her mother warned, still smiling.

"Am I _wrong_?" she asked rhetorically.

"I'm here now," Mori said. Let's just eat."

The servants brought out steamy plates of exquisite and expensive foods, and soon the gold plates in front of each family member were filled. At one end of the table sat Mori's father, Denjiro, and at the other end sat her mother, Leiko. Mori sat beside her sister on one side of the table, and across from them sat Chihiro, their brother.

Chihiro was Mori's favorite sibling. Then sixteen, six years older than Mori, he, unlike Kohana, would smile when he saw Mori come inside covered with dirt and other natural debris from digging holes, climbing up trees, searching through the bushes for mole-rabbits, and whatever other mischief she might get herself into. Their mother was fond of saying "all little girls are like flowers", to which Chihiro would reply, "And Mori happens to be a tough little tiger lily rather than a delicate rose."

The 'delicate rose' title more closely fit Kohana. She embraced everything 'girly', and liked nothing better than to stroll through the gardens, have tea parties, and dream of the day a handsome young man would come and sweep her off her feet like the princesses in the fairy tales she was so fond of. Mori had little interest in any of these things. Much to her mother's dismay, she'd rather be the brave warrior slaying the dragon than the beautiful princess rescued from it.

Their father was a very wealthy merchant, so they lived in a grand house just outside of a large town in the Earth Kingdom. He had accepted Mori's tomboyish ways, thinking it was likely a phase she'd soon grow out of, or else that her life would always be interesting, to say the least. "She's not one to take the normal route if she can find a more interesting way," he'd say when Leiko would express concern over Mori's adventurous nature.

On his travels, Denjiro would often bring his children presents from many different lands, and had long since learned that the dresses, silk handkerchiefs, and porcelain dolls that made Kohana squeal with delight held no interest for Mori, so he'd bring her world maps, spyglasses, Water Tribe canteens, and even a wooden toy dagger (Leiko nearly fainted when she saw Mori playing with it).

That particular evening, Mori had been in the nearby river, trying (unsuccessfully) to catch fish with her bare hands. She'd completely lost track of time and one of the servant's sons (from whom she'd often take outgrown clothing, since her mother was tired of Mori's dresses being ruined by her activities) had to find her and tell her she was late. Mori had bolted from the river, running as hard as she could to get back to the house, and barely had the time to tug on a dress and wash her hands and face before entering the dining room.

"It's enough that you _look_ like a mess, but do you have to _smell_ so terrible, too?" Kohana asked as they ate. Mori ignored her, but Chihiro laughed.

"Bee, pass the rice," he said. Ever since Kohana had called her Queen of the Bumblebees five years before, the nickname Bee had stuck. "So what were you up to that made you late?" he asked, smiling. Mori's adventures were always interesting.

"Fishing," she said, stuffing a dumpling into her mouth.

"Catch anything?"

"Nah."

"That's all right. I can teach you."

"Chihiro," Leiko said in her all too common _we-don't-want-to-encourage-this-behavior-in-her_ tone.

"Oh, let the girl have some fun!" said her father, beaming, "She's barely ten. She doesn't need to learn how to be a lady yet." Leiko dropped the argument, though she had an annoyed look on her face. Not that it mattered to Mori. As long as she got to spend time with her brother, learning from him, she was happy.

She'd actually already learned quite a bit from him, though nobody knew. Except for the servants, of course, but they'd never tell Leiko. They were all on Mori's side, and they liked watching her one-girl rebellion against her mother's views of what girls should and shouldn't do.

Chihiro was a skilled swordfighter, and Mori liked to watch him practice (she'd climb trees and watch from a safe distance). One day, when she was about seven years old, she was trying to imitate some of the things she'd seen Chihiro do, though she had to resort to using sticks for swords. Over and over she tried one particular move, a sort of flourish and double slash with two swords, but she kept tripping over her own feet and dropping her weapons.

"Your form needs work," a voice from behind her said. She jumped and turned to find Chihiro standing there. "Do you want to learn?" he asked.

Mori nodded, and that was the beginning.

**:–:–:–:**

That evening, after the dinner Mori had arrived late to, Chihiro decided to teach Mori how to use daggers. They found a spot in the garden where they would not likely be disturbed, hidden from view by a wall of hedges. Mori (once again dressed in boys' clothing) held her wooden toy dagger tight in her small hand, eager to learn.

"Are you ready, my young pupil?" Chihiro asked melodramatically and with a bow.

"I'm ready," Mori said, bowing back.

"Then let's begin," Chihiro said. He stood behind her to show her how to hold the dagger correctly, and where to put her feet, and as he bent closer he caught the smell Kohana had commented on at dinner: a mixture of dirt, river algae, and sweat. "Koko was right," he said, laughing. "You really do smell." Mori blushed furiously red. "Don't worry," Chihiro said. "It just means you've been outside all day. It's just who you are." He rumpled her hair affectionately. "You're our smelly Bee. Hey –" he said as the idea came to him. "You want a warrior name, Bee?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"How about Smellerbee?"

"I like it," she said, smiling.

"Good." Chihiro took out a dagger of his own and held it in front of his face. "A lot of people underestimate daggers because they're small," he said, twirling it in his hand. "But that's not wise. They're perfect for sneak attacks, or hand to hand combat. Or –" he suddenly threw the dagger forward, and it neatly pierced an apple growing an a nearby tree, and stayed there. "– longer range fighting, under certain circumstances."

Mori looked at her brother in awe. Then she took her own dagger and threw it, just as her brother had done, at the apple tree. It didn't strike and stop neatly as Chihiro's did, but it did connect with an apple and knock it down. Chihiro looked approvingly at Mori. "Yes," he said, "I think the dagger is a good choice for you, Smellerbee."

**:–:–:–:**

And so the nickname Smellerbee was born. But the girl who would become her still had a lot of learning to do.


	2. Invaders

Chapter 2: Invaders

Mori sat high in a tree, playing with a small stone in her hand; in her other hand a slingshot Chihiro had given her for her sixteenth birthday several months ago.

She watched with narrowed eyes as the soot-gray tanks rolled through the forest, flanked by soldiers on foot and riding komodo rhinos. She'd heard they were coming, but not what they'd do once they arrived. She moved forward on her branch slowly and silently – she was right above their heads and they didn't even know it. She placed the pebble she was still holding in the slingshot, took careful aim at the scarlet helmets of the walking soldiers, and fired.

Immediately she twisted back, lying down on the branch so they couldn't see her. She heard the man shout as the pebble made contact with a satisfying _clang_, and the other soldiers asking what had happened. _That was only the beginning_, she thought with a mischievous smile. They could move into her town, but they couldn't make her hospitable.

When at last the final solders had marched past her hiding place, she slid down from the tree. Chihiro had taught her more than swordplay and how to brandish a dagger: she'd learned how to dart through the trees without making a sound, how to disarm an opponent, and how to detect lies through body language. She'd learned how to focus her hearing, recognize animal footprints, imitate bird calls, and how to hold her own against any of the town boys that dared to mock her.

She ran through the trees, taking a route she knew well that lead her to the back of the wall surrounding her family's property, where she climbed up the vines shrouding it, leapt to a tree from atop the wall, and scuttled down to the ground.

The servants hurrying around the back of the house – washing clothing, digging in the small vegetable garden, and doing other chores – barely took notice of Mori. They were far too used to her presence there. But when her mother, standing on one of the the back balconies, saw her youngest child looking like a forest imp, dressed in boyish clothes, and walking amongst the servants, she shouted, "Mori! Mori! Come up here right now!"

Mori groaned inwardly. Her mother never seemed to give up on turning Mori into a "lady". She entered the house through the back door and took the servants' staircase up, hoping she'd be able to make this go as quickly as possible.

"Yes mother?" she asked.

"I have been looking for you all morning," her mother said. "Please tell me you haven't been out in the woods?"

"I haven't been out in the woods."

"Is that true?"

"No."

"Mori!"

"Mother!" Mori rolled her eyes. "I didn't let any of the Fire Nation soldiers see me. I'm cleverer than that."

"Mori, I worry about you."

"You don't have to." Her mother was about to respond when Kohana glided onto the balcony.

"There you are!"

At nineteen, Kohana was graceful, beautiful, and soft in every sense of the word. Her porcelain skin was smooth, her female curves obvious under her silk clothing, her voice gentle (when she wasn't criticizing Mori), and her heart (her sister had noticed) easy to melt – or break – depending on who Kohana had most recently set it on.

Anyone who didn't know they were sisters wouldn't have guessed it. Mori was tall, lanky, and tended to pull her long hair back simply, instead of having it ornately arranged on her head, as Kohana was fond of. Mori didn't care much for her appearance in general, while Kohana could spend long hours taking bubble baths, combing her hair, and choosing clothing. And all the boys in town took notice, and none were attractive to Mori after she'd seen them make fools of themselves trying to impress her sister or make promises of forever that never seemed to last until the next full moon. But she didn't care. She loved her freedom too much to give it up in favor of lovesickness.

"Mother, have you told her?" Kohana asked.

"Told me what?" Mori asked, glancing from her sister to her mother.

"General Chang –"

"Who?"

"One of the Fire Nation generals," her mother continued, choosing not to scold Mori for her bad manners. "Has been talking to your father, and he decided to set up local headquarters here, in our house."

Mori's eyes narrowed. "And how'd the general react when father told him no?"

"Well, dear –"

"He agreed to it? After the things we've heard about them – the things they've done to the Earth Kingdom –"

"Well, he felt it best –"

"How is helping the enemy what's 'best'?"

"Mori." Her mother's face was set in a hard smile. "We must accept the unfortunate circumstances and handle them with our heads held high."

Mori walked out, going over all of this in her mind. She'd never had strong personal feelings about the war, simply because it had never truly touched her. Of course she wanted the Earth Kingdom to win, but she'd never exactly lost sleep over news of defeat in recent battles. But now that she thought of the rumors of Fire Nation abuse, and now that they'd be not only coming to her town, but living in her own house . . .

She found herself heading for her father's study, but when she got close she saw Chihiro coming out.

"Mori, you must've heard –"

"Please tell me you talked Dad out of it," Mori said.

"I wish I had, Bee, but he thinks we'll be safest if we're friendly to them. And maybe dad will get along with the general, you know, have a little influence over what he does in this town. Help keep it peaceful. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Funny, I thought you were supposed to fight your enemies, not give them lodging."

"I know what you mean, little sister," Chihiro said. "But according to what I've heard, the Avatar is back, and that means this war will soon be over. Then we can send the hog monkeys back where they belong." They laughed, but Mori still felt uneasy.

**:–:–:–:**

It was a month later, and by then the family was more or less used to the soldiers' presence. Except for one aspect. General Chang, it turned out, was quite young. In fact, he was Chihiro's age. And he, like so many others, set his sights on Kohana. It started as innocent flirtation, but now they were together constantly (when the general wasn't busy with Fire Nation business), and every time she caught Chang looking at Kohana, Mori got a slightly sick feeling inside. There was something not right in his gaze. She didn't trust him for a moment to be the gentleman he pretended to be; always polite and formal to her parents, charming to her sister, and always trying to win Mori and Chihiro over. But they'd have none of it. They saw through him. Mori tolerated him at first, partially for Kohana, partially to keep the family safe from any retaliation, but that was before she found out exactly what kind of man General Chang was.

It happened when Mori came across Kohana in a corner of the library, crying. They'd never been particularly close, but Mori felt that she had to do something; Kohana had been closing herself off in the past few days, hardly talking or laughing, and Mori could tell this was not a simple broken-heart cry she'd seen her sister lapse into countless times over many different boys in town.

"Koko," she said quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, sitting upright, turning away from Mori, but not before she saw –

"Who gave you that bruise?" There was a purple-blue mark above Kohana's left eye.

"No one. I fell," she said.

"It was Chang, wasn't it?"

Kohana's silence was answer enough.

"Koko, how could you let him do this to you?" Mori asked, willing her sister to understand her concern. "You have to tell –"

"No!" Kohana whirled around and grabbed Mori's wrist. "Please, don't. He said it won't happen again. Please don't tell."

The desperation in her sister's voice was enough to keep Mori silent – as much as she hated it – at least for a while.

**:–:–:–:**

Mori heard two arguing voices, Kohana's and Chang's, from down the hallway, heading towards her. She slid behind a tapestry on the wall, nearly holding her breath as she listened.

"But he isn't even –"

"If I deem him a nuisance, he might as well be. He'll be treated the same."

"Chang! How can you -"

"I don't like the way he looks at me," Chang growled. "Him and your brat, tomboy sister –"

"Don't insult my family!" Kohana said, and Mori smiled. She'd never heard her sister speak like this to anyone, and was glad she seemed to be growing a backbone. They were right beside the tapestry – Mori could tell – when Chang said coldly, "I'm only telling the truth." Suddenly, Mori heard him pushing Kohana against the wall, and he murmured softly to her, "How can we be happy, love, if your family so disapproves?" Mori's fists clenched, but then she heard the sounds of her sister trying to push him back as she said, "Chang, I don't know if –"

"What?" Once again it sounded like Chang had her pushed against the wall, like he was in control, murmuring dangerously to her. "You don't know if you love me? If you want me?" He laughed, and Mori thought it was the most sickening thing she had ever heard – there was just something wrong with the sound. "I think you know," Chang continued, "whether or not your father and brother get sent away with the other earthbenders depends on your . . . _hospitality_." The last word came out as a hiss, the sound Mori'd heard enough to know it meant a snake was about to strike.

"Chang, no, I can't," Kohana said. "I told you."

Mori heard him pull away from her and start walking down the hallway.

"Very well," he said as he passed by Mori's hiding place. "Your father and brother will be departing soon, once we've rounded up this town's earthbenders, so I suggest that you –"

"No," Kohana said, her voice threatening tears. "Please." It came out as no more than a whisper. "I'll do what you want."

Mori heard Chang turn and say, "Excellent, love. I'm sure I can keep them safe.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Mori felt ill as she heard them continue down the hallway and out of earshot. She wanted to vomit. She didn't know exactly what Kohana had agreed to do, but nothing that made Chang that happy and brought her sister to such weakness could be good. And the honeyed sweetness with which had promised her father and Chihiro's safety? His voice had sounded laced with poison to Mori.

**:–:–:–:**

That night, Mori had planned to talk to Kohana after dinner, to find out what was going on, but towards the end of the meal Kohana complained of a splitting headache, and she retired to bed early with a cup of jasmine tea.

The next morning, Mori got the news about what the Fire Nation was really doing: rounding up the earthbenders in villages across the region and shipping them elsewhere so they couldn't resist occupation. Outraged, Mori had marched into General Chang's office, walked up to him, and demanded, "Who do you think you are, sending all the earthbenders off?"

He matched Mori's challenging stare with one of calm power.

"It's to keep those heathenish earthbenders from killing themselves trying to rebel against us," he said, his eyes not moving from Mori's face. "And it's not just earthbenders," he added, a threat entering his tone. "It's anyone who gets in my way."

"If you send my father –"

"Your father's not going anywhere, at least not for the moment," he said, moving behind his desk and glancing at some papers with calculated carelessness. "His trade is of value to us. But –" he looked at Mori again, this time with the shadow of a wicked smile. "– if I find his family to be too much of a nuisance, I would not be beyond sending him – or anyone else – away as part of a lesson.

"You wouldn't dare," Mori snarled, sounding braver than she felt.

"Oh, I assure you I would. You and your brother are getting on my last nerve. If either of you do or say anything to anyone – especially to your sister – that detracts from my image, I can promise you that this family will not remain intact."

As it turned out, he would deliver on that promise.


	3. Hospitality

Chapter 3: Hospitality

Three months after Mori's confrontation with General Chang, little appeared to have changed. Chihiro had made no efforts to hide his disdain for the general, but he was not openly hostile, either. Mori followed is example. As much as she hated swallowing her thoughts of him, she hated the idea of someone in the family being sent away even more. She'd never asked Kohana what it was that kept the general from doing so; she was afraid of what Chang might do if he found out, as she was sure he would. All she could do was hope that the war would end soon and that things would go back to normal.

Unfortunately, one evening at dinner, all of her illusions of returning to normalcy were shattered.

Chang and some of the other officials staying at the Tokushima house were long since used to dining with the family, much to the displeasure of Mori and Chihiro. Normally, with the exception of Kohana and Chang, the family and soldiers would simply ignore each other; each group would have its own conversation, acting as though the _other_ end of the table simply wasn't there. However, that night Chang rose in the middle of the meal and raised his glass to make a toast. Everyone at the table fell silent, their eyes on the general, except for Mori and Chihiro, who exchanged suspicious glances.

"I would like to make a most wonderful announcement," Chang said, smiling broadly.

_"You're leaving?"_ Mori wanted to ask, but something told her whatever he was about to say was too serious for such jokes.

"Kohana – my precious flower – and I have decided to marry."

"What?!" Mori sprang to her feet, looking to her parents, praying they'd protest, tell him that no daughter of theirs would marry Fire Nation scum, but instead her mother hissed, "Mori! Sit down!" before she smiled at Chang and said, "What wonderful news!"

There was a time, several years before, when Mori had been sliding across the branch of the tree. The further she got, the thinner the branch was. But it seemed stable, and she knew that she could stop and turn back before it broke beneath her. At least that's what she'd assumed, until she heard the snapping and felt herself falling, unable to think of anything but what would happen when she hit the ground. It was exactly how she felt now: suspended, terrified, like she was moving fast towards something she couldn't avoid; it was too late to go back or save herself. Too shocked and scared to even scream.

She stared at her mother, waiting for her to do or say anything that would put this right.

"Oh, look!" her mother said, smiling at Kohana. "She's crying with joy!"

It was true that Kohana had both a smile and tears on her face, but Mori knew that the tears were of anything but joy. Shaking with rage, Mori kicked her chair back and she ran to her room, slamming the door shut. Something was very wrong, that much she knew. Now she just had to figure out how to fix it before she hit the ground.

**:–:–:–:**

The next day, Mori awoke early, as she usually did, but instead of going outside, she went to her sister's room and knocked on the door. Kohana opened it, dressed in a pink silk robe, and looking as though she'd been up most of the night crying.

"Koko, are you all right?" Mori asked.

"I'm fine," Kohana said, moving to close the door on her sister, but Mori reached out and stopped it.

"Come on, Kohana," she said. "Tell me what's going on."

Kohana glanced up and down the hallway before she stepped aside and let Mori in. Normally Kohana was the neat child: her room orderly, her bed made as soon as she was up, clothes put away, possessions organized; but now the blankets were on the floor, the cushions on the couch disheveled, clothing strewn about – were it not for the absence of birds' nests, weaponry, turtle-duck shells, disorganized and tottering stacks of books, and rocks she'd deemed "interesting", it could have been mistaken for Mori's room.

Mori sat down on the couch, her sister opposite her on a loveseat, a low table between them. Kohana wouldn't meet Mori's eyes. Instead, she stared at the floor, arms and legs crossed. Mori took the opportunity to study her sister.

"Kohana, you know you can't hide whatever it is from me," Mori said with a light smile. "Come on, tell me what's wrong."

"Why are you suddenly so interested in what I'm doing?" Kohana asked coldly.

"Koko," Mori said softly, almost hurt. "We're sisters. I know we're not exactly twins . . . but come on."

Kohana looked at her. Tears welled in her eyes.

"I can't," she said in barely a whisper.

"What's so bad you can't tell me?"

"You'd kill me," Kohana said with a faint laugh.

"Whatever it is, I promise I won't say anything, you know . . . like I normally would."

"Fine," Kohana sighed. "But you can't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"Mori," the severity in her sister's voice caught her off-guard, even under the circumstances. Her sister was often melodramatic, but this was beyond adolescent exaggeration. "You can't tell anyone. Not even Mom and Dad. Promise."

"I promise," Mori said, uncertain she should.

"If I don't marry him, he's going to send Dad and Chihiro away."

"What?" Mori was stunned even beyond anger.

"At first he said as long as the family stayed 'hospitable' we'd have nothing to worry about . . . but then he wanted my _full_ attention." So that's why she spent so much time with him. Of course he wanted her to dote on him. He was no better than the young men from town. "Mori, I know you think I don't do much, but I gave him everything for this family."

"You gave him everything?" Mori repeated, not comprehending.

"Everything." Kohana's eyes left her sister's face and traveled down to her own stomach, where her hand was resting.

"Oh, my god, Kohana, are you –"

"About two months along now."

"Oh, Koko!" Mori, in an uncharacteristic rush of affection, flew to her sister's side and put her arms around her. "What are you going to do?"

"Marry him," Kohana answered hopelessly, tears falling into her lap now. "Pray that this war will end. That this will be enough to keep our family safe."

"I'll kill him," Mori said, pulling away from her sister, standing up, fists clenching.

"No Mori, you can't do or say _anything_ – he could still send them away," Kohana said desperately.

"But, Kohana –"

"Mori, please, I can't lose my family. I've already lost my freedom."

Mori looked at her sister. Just weeks ago, Kohana was simply her sister whose romantic fantasies get on Mori's nerves, but now she was a young woman who had watched her future fade before her like a rose kept in a vase, out of the sunlight; who had a life inside her to take care of before she was fully ready to take care of herself. The knight in shining armor hadn't come, the dragon had conquered, the princess was still locked away – now with no hope of happily ever after.

"Do you think he'll keep his word?" Mori asked.

Kohana shrugged hopelessly. "I have to."

**:–:–:–:**

The day of the wedding was lovely; there was not a cloud in the sky, and the garden's many cherry trees were in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. The house looked grand, and Kohana had never been more beautiful. Not that any of it mattered in the end. Within a few short hours, Kohana's fate was sealed.

The reception was held on the lower floor of the house, mostly in the vast entrance hall. The guests came from all over: important-looking Fire Nation men and women, rich and powerful Earth Kingdom families, and just about everyone from town who had enough money to come dressed up enough to look like they belonged.

Mori felt completely apathetic as her mother dragged her from person to person, making introductions and small talk that seemed completely pointless to Mori. She managed to sneak away while her mother was talking about tea to the Bei Fongs ("A very important family to be on good terms with," Leiko had said to Mori. "Pity they have no children."). She made her way to the table laden with every type of food imaginable that stretched across the entire length of the hall. She stocked her plate and then stood behind a nearby pillar to eat in the hope that she wouldn't be found and paraded around again. She heard the voices of General Chang and one of his friends approaching, and she heard her name.

". . . Mori, she's an obnoxious little brat."

"How old is she?" the friend asked. Mori crouched down behind the pillar and slid under the table so as to better hear them as they put food on their plates, slowly making their way down the table.

"Sixteen, I think. But she acts like a petulant five-year-old, I'm telling you . . . always running around . . . but at least she's out of my way then. I know she's mouthed off about me to her sister. As soon as I can, I'm shipping her off to reform school in the colonies."

"Oh, are you?" his friend laughed. "And her parents will let you?" Mori moved, spiderlike and silent, across the floor, careful to keep up with them as they walked, without touching the tablecloth. She got the feeling that if she was caught there, she might be attacked on the spot.

"Taken care of," Chang said breezily, though quietly. There was a group of people nearby; Mori could hear them. "Her mother's got no strength of will, her father's afraid to stand up to me – I can tell – and anyway, I'm sending him and his son away with all the others in the near future."

"I thought you got her to marry you because you said you wouldn't if she did." _He doesn't know about the baby_, Mori thought. _Smart of Kohana not to tell him . . . now he can't leave her and deny it's his._

"Well, we're married now, so there's nothing she can do about it, is there?"

"So you'll send the kid to the colonies, no problem? What if she fights back?"

"I'll be in charge of her once everyone with a backbone is gone, so I'll just marry her off if she misbehaves."

"Who'd want to marry that monster?"

"She just needs to be tamed, that's all. Like those wild komodo rhinos we used to break for the army . . . your little brother was quite good at it, and he's about her age now, right?"

"Sure, but he's got your taste in girls. Only the pretty ones, right?"

"She's no Kohana, but they are sisters. She'll get good-looking eventually, I'm sure of it. Needs to be kept out of the forest, that's all. There's Kohana, I'd better go check up on her."

Mori was only vaguely aware of the sounds of the two men walking away. The full meaning of their conversation crashed down around her. She fell back on the floor, trying to process everything she'd just heard.

Chang was sending her father and brother away.

She was going to be next.

And if she didn't cooperate, she'd lose her freedom just like Kohana.


	4. Fight

Chapter 4: Fight

The sunlight poured into Mori's room, falling across her as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Normally she'd be long gone by this time – her balcony gave hear easy access to the back wall with a bit of climbing – but she'd barely slept that night with Chang's conversation weighing so heavily on her.

She might've stayed there all day were it not for the sounds of a sudden stampede down the hallway. By the synchronized footsteps, she could tell they were soldiers. She sat bolt upright. She'd never seen a single soldier aside from Chang in this part of the house. There had to be a reason, and it couldn't be good.

Mori scrambled out of bed and pulled on her clothes. Within a minute she stumbled into the hallway and ran in the direction the soldiers had gone, and from where she now heard Chang's voice booming, though she couldn't make out the words over the pounding of her heart and the rush of her fear.

The soldiers, some of them armed with spears, were gathered outside of Chihiro's room, their backs to Mori. She pushed her way through them and burst into her brother's room. She saw General Chang, flanked by two more soldiers, his back to her, standing in front of her father and brother. Each had two soldiers holding him by the arms in a way that could only mean they were being arrested.

"I apologize for making you bear this humiliation, Denjiro, but with your son resisting arrest, I had to call in more of my men, and I thought that knowing his father would be going with him might calm the boy."

There was a look of hatred so strong and pure on Chihiro's face, Mori almost had to look away. "Is this how you treat your new family?" he snarled. "I knew from the start you were no good, but this?"

"Our earthbender policy has become stricter across the region, so your father's departure is no fault of mine. But you, Chihiro," Chang stepped closer to him, clearly savoring the power he had. "You've only yourself to blame for your fate. Your rudeness, your insubordination –"

"Why should a man be subordinate to a worm?" Chihiro asked, lurching forward, bringing his face within inches of Chang's.

"You'll regret this."

"Regret what? Standing up for myself? Speaking my mind?"

Chang grinned evilly and snapped his fingers. Two soldiers in the doorway came forward and grabbed Mori before she had the chance to fight back. Of course. He knew she'd come.

"I thought you'd turn up," Chang said, turning to her. Mori couldn't hide her rage, but at least she kept the pain from her face – she could feel fingerprint bruises being raised on her arms; the soldiers' grip was so tight. Chang turned back to Chihiro. He'd missed the shadow of fear that had passed over Chihiro's face upon his sister's detainment. "With her father and brother gone, I'll be in charge of dear little Mori," he said, his voice slick with sick synthetic sweetness.

"And what about her mother?" Chihiro said, thought Mori could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Do you really think her mother will stand up to me?" Chang asked. Denjiro's head dropped, and he let out a sound like a choked sob. Chihiro looked at Mori. Both of their parents had long since been broken by Chang. They were on their own.

"I didn't think so," the general sneered in response to Chihiro's silence.

"You SNAKE!" Mori burst out, swinging her legs up and kicking Chang's back before the soldiers could pull her back. Chang caught himself before he fell. There was a moment of tense silence, and then he roared and rounded on Mori, fire engulfing one of his fists. Mori could only register that his flaming hand was headed straight for her face when she heard Chihiro shout, "Mori, get down!" as he pulled himself free from the soldiers and leapt forward. He slammed the general to the floor, and Mori felt the heat vanish in front of her face, an instant before it burned her.

The soldiers holding her released her to help General Chang to his feet while Chihiro's soldiers pulled him back, their hands so tight around his arms he grimaced. As Chang stood up, his breathing was audibly heavy with anger. First he rounded on Chihiro and roared, "You can go rot with the rest of the earth swine!" Then he turned to Mori with a deranged, furious, and revenge-thirsty look. "And you . . ." his voice was now a low growl, like an animal preparing to attack its prey. "You'll be sent to the colonies to learn how to behave, and the second I find someone with the patience to tame a beast like you, I'll marry you off!"

Mori lunged forward but was caught by a pair of soldiers at the last second.

"Like hell you will!" she shouted.

She was reeling from Chang's blow before she realized he'd hit her. The entire left side of her face stung.

"Mori!" Chihiro shouted, struggling against his soldiers.

"Get them out of here!" Chang ordered, his eyes on fire. The soldiers began filing out, first those with Denjiro, but his son wouldn't go so easily.

"Don't let them take your freedom, Mori!" Chihiro shouted, struggling against the soldiers as they tried to steer him out, digging his heels into the ground.

"Shut up!" Chang screamed, but there was nothing more he could do to them now.

"Remember what you fight for!" Chihiro shouted. Furious and desperate, Chang punched him. Blood gushed from Chihiro's nose and his head hung; he was barely conscious. Mori heard him murmur softly, "Remember . . . what you fight for . . . Mori."

"I'll remember! I'll remember!" Mori struggled to follow them, but the soldiers still on either side of her held her back. She watched as her brother disappeared down the hallway. "I'll remember." Tears streamed down her face and she hung limply between the guards, as if the weight of her grief was too much to bear. Chang gave her one last condescending look just before he walked out.

"You can leave her," he sneered. "She won't be any trouble anymore."

Mori dropped to her knees as the soldiers let go of her and walked out, closing the door, leaving her alone. More alone than she'd ever been, or would be again. She looked around the room desperately, as though she might find something to make it all right.

_Remember what you fight for_.

Mori stood up and wiped the tears from her face, setting her eyes in a hard stare. She decided that this would be the last time the Fire Nation would make her cry. She'd never be powerless again. She moved around Chihiro's room slowly, deliberately, looking for the things that had been most important to him, anything he wouldn't have wanted the Fire Nation to have. She took his swords, the canteen he'd had since before Mori was born, his blue headband, and on his dresser she found a wrapped package.

For Smellerbee

read the tag. Curious, she picked it up and slowly, gently, unwrapped it. Inside was a dagger in a leather sheath, attached to a belt. The blade was so smooth and perfectly shined that she could see her own reflection as clear as though it were a mirror. The handle was wrapped in thick, strong leather. She picked it up and made a few slashing movements in the air, feeling its weight in her hand, feeling her power return to her.

"I'll remember what I fight for."


	5. Escape

Chapter 5: Escape

"Mother, you have to listen to me," Mori said, bursting into the sitting room outside her parents' bedroom. Her mother was sitting at a small, delicate table drinking tea.

"Come in Mori," she said pleasantly, motioning to the chair across from her. She was _too_ calm. "Have some tea."

"Mom, listen! Chang sent father and Chihiro away," Mori said desperately.

"I know," Leiko said with a distant, detached sadness. "Dear General Chang had no choice."

"What?" Mori asked, stunned. "It's because of him they're gone – he did it to get them out of the way –"

"No, he didn't. The orders came from elsewhere," her mother corrected. Mori stared at her. Her eyes were almost vacant, like she'd slipped into another reality. Or built up a wall to protect herself from his one.

"Mom," Mori said, sitting down now and taking her mother's hands in her own. "Chang's not a good guy. He sent them away – your son and your husband, my father and brother – because he wanted them gone. And now he's going to do the same to me. He's going to send me to reform school in the colonies and make me marry someone as soon as he can. He told me so himself." Mori willed her mother to understand, to find her strength, take charge, get rid of these soldiers, make her home safe and whole again. Instead, she took a sip of tea and winced.

"It's bitter," she said. She spooned sugar into it and took another sip.

"Mom, did you hear me?" Mori asked.

"Still too bitter," her mother said, determinedly adding more sugar.

"Mom, wake up! Chang's a _bad_ guy!" She was almost shouting now. Her mother, in contrast, seemed to be getting quieter and some how weaker; smaller.

"Mori, I don't know what you're talking about!" she said. She put more sugar into her tea. "He's a good man! I wouldn't let my daughter marry anyone who would do those awful things . . . I'd stop him . . . I'd protect my daughter . . ." She was still stirring in sugar, and Mori could see an undissolved layer of it building at the bottom of the cup.

Mori stood up. She was as good as orphaned now.

"Right, Mom," she said, observing as her mother forced down another sip of the tea, almost choking on it. Mori left her mother there. She couldn't watch another family member disappear before her eyes.

"Going somewhere?" as she stepped out into the hallway, she saw Chang and Kohana heading towards her. It was Chang who had addressed her.

"No," Mori said, glaring at him.

"Good," Chang said, his eyes glinting maliciously. _I won_, they seemed to say. _And you've not even seen the best part yet_. Mori was suspicious. He couldn't have done anything more, could he?

"We were going to have tea with mother," Kohana said softly. She always spoke softly now. "Would you like to join us?"

"No," Mori said. "I've had my fill of tea."

She pushed past them and went downstairs, to the front doors, but before she could even reach for the ornate handle, one of the soldiers beside it stepped forward, blocking her.

"Move," she said.

"We have orders that say you're not to leave," said the soldier. "There are guards at every entrance and exit – even the servants' entrances."

Mori stared at the guard for a moment, waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, she swore and turned around and started running as fast as she could back to the sitting room. She threw the door open, causing it to slam against the wall with a loud _CRACK_, instantly gaining the attention of everyone in the room.

"You won't imprison me in my own house! Tell your soldiers to let me out!" she said, a hard glare locked on Chang. He stood slowly, so he was eye to eye with her.

"It's for your own good," he said. "Tomorrow morning you'll be sent to one of the finest schools in the Fire Nation, an academy for young women –"

"You mean _reform_ school?" Mori demanded.

"Of course not," he said with condescending laughter, though his eyes said _yes_. "I'm hoping it's not too late to turn you into a civilized young lady."

"You mean subordinate and silent?" Mori retorted, feeling hate rushing through her veins, noticing the tears on her sister's face and her mother's empty eyes as she stared out the window.

"I mean respectful of your elders, of your family, and disinclined to run about the woods like a common _thief_."

"Better a common thief than a snake masquerading as an honorable general!" Mori spat. "You can't make me go to your Fire Swine school."

Chang's eyes went black. He took a step closer to Mori, bringing his face within inches of hers, and said, softly but with obvious power, "I believe you'll find I can."

Mori kept her eyes on his for a moment more before she stepped back, shaking her head, and left the room. She'd die before she'd submit to his will.

**:–:–:–:**

She was pacing in the library that same evening, thinking of how she could stop Chang from sending her away. She couldn't count on Kohana to stand up to Chang. Her mother was lost to her self-preserving delusions, and Mori was certain that the servants wouldn't disobey Chang no matter how much they wanted to, and Mori couldn't blame them. They just wanted to protect their jobs and their families.

Mori stopped in front of the mantle, staring into the fire.

"I've got to get out of here," she murmured.

"I'm afraid that won't be an option." Chang had entered, flanked by soldiers. Mori whirled around and stared at him. "I can't risk you running away and getting lost," he continued in tones of mock concern. "And to be sure you aren't tempted to, I'll have some of my soldiers here stand keep an eye on your door . . . to make sure you don't get away from us."

"You snake," Mori said, starting towards him, adrenaline rising – but before she could reach Chang, two soldiers stepped in front of him and two more moved to her sides, grabbing her arms and holding her back.

"You seem overwrought," he said condescendingly. "Why don't you go to bed early?" The guards dragged Mori to her room, struggling and cursing all the way. They threw her in and locked the door behind her.

She looked around her room. Chang could not and would not have her life in his hands. He would have no say in her future. She grabbed her rucksack and tore around her room, throwing into it clothes, money, jewelry (to sell if it came to that), a sleeping bag, a canteen, a flint, and a few other small, prized possessions. Finally, she took up the dagger Chihiro had left for her and put the belt around her waist. It fit perfectly. _Thanks, Chihiro_, she thought, then she grabbed her twin swords in their scabbard and placed them on top of the rucksack, by her balcony. Then, she waited for night to settle over the countryside.

**:–:–:–:**

It was past midnight, and the full moon gave Mori some visibility. She moved to the door quietly, and could tell that the guards were there, awake. She'd have to remain completely silent if she wanted her plan to succeed.

She turned around and looked around her room one more time, to see if she'd forgotten anything. She wished she could leave a note, telling her mother and sister she'd escaped and would be fine, but she thought it better to vanish without a trace and let Chang draw his own conclusions.

She glanced in the vast mirror in her room and her eyes fixed on her long hair. She found a sewing basket her mother had given her the year before (in a futile attempt to make a skilled seamstress out of Mori), removed the shears, and cut her long brown hair short, above her shoulders. To keep it out of her face, she took a blue cloth and tied it like a headband. The foot or so of shorn hair Mori took to the balcony and threw as far as she could, and the spirits granted her the luck of a strong breeze that scattered it all around. Nobody would notice it. When Mori looked in the mirror now, she was unrecognizable.

Mori slung her swords across her back, then the rucksack, and ran her fingers over the handle of her dagger, taking a deep breath, stepping out to her balcony. It was now or never. Her one shot at freedom. She glanced over at the balconies of her mother and sister's rooms and said a silent goodbye. There was a rope curled on the floor of the balcony, one end tied securely to the stone railing. Mori had tied it there when she was fourteen, and no one had ever realized she'd been using it to sneak out (or at least, her mother hadn't, and that was what mattered). She threw the rope over the balcony and began to climb down.

The two-story vertical journey had never seemed so long or dangerous, but then, it had never decided the fate of her freedom before. If Chang were to catch her now, she knew he'd do anything to keep her locked away, to prove his power over her. She imagined herself shut in a closet for the rest of her life, fed through a crack in the door – she wouldn't put it past him.

When she was on the ground at last, she took her flint, and after a few seconds of trying, set fire to the bottom of the rope, hoping it would reach the top of the rope and burn out before they noticed her missing. If it did, she'd be gone without a trace.

Mori slipped through the darkness to the base of the tree by the wall, and in less than a minute she was touching down on the other side and running away through the woods, free.

_AN: I meant to update this every Monday without fail, but, well . . . stuff happens (my mom broke her wrist and I've been playing nursemaid, plus I've been looking at colleges and studying for the SAT . . . you know, fun stuff). Anyway, thanks for reading, and please review!_


	6. Freedom

Chapter 6: Freedom

Mori walked all night, until she saw the sky start to turn a pure, predawn blue color, which she knew would soon give way to hues of orange and red and then the day would have truly begun. She decided that now was the time to rest; she would soon be discovered missing, and it was likely that Chang would send out a search party to find her. She got the feeling he'd do anything just to prove his power over her. Well, that worked out just fine for Mori because she'd do anything to keep him from getting that satisfaction.

She had been walking through the trees just beside the main road so that she had an idea of where she was headed, but was less exposed should anyone she didn't want to meet be passing through. Now she veered off this course, walking into the thick forest another ten yards or so until she found a massive tree with a space between two of the large roots with room enough for her to lie down and sleep. As soon as her head hit her rucksack (her makeshift pillow) she was out like a candle.

Mori had a strange dream in which her father and Chihiro rode away from their home on great badger moles as she watched from the garden, which Chang set on fire as soon as they were out of sight. Mori was terrified that she would be burned alive, when suddenly a great wave of amber liquid crashed in, putting out the flames – Mori was drowning in her mother's teacup. Luckily, Kohana appeared at the last second and pulled her out.

"Thanks, Koko," Mori said. Kohana laughed and hit Mori on the side of the head.

"What?" Mori found herself sitting up suddenly, and she realized she was in the forest . . . and her rucksack was missing. There were the sounds of fast footsteps and rapidly retreating laughter, and Mori bolted after whoever it was.

"Get back here!" she shouted, tearing through a patch of bushes. She caught a glimpse of someone short in an ash-grey helmet ahead of her. Without missing a step she scooped up a handful of rocks from the ground and threw them.

"Ah!" squawked the figure as the stones clattered off his helmet, and by the voice Mori could tell he was quite young. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Just as she hoped he would, the thief turned his head to look at her – only for a second, but it was enough – and stumbled over a tree root.

"Ha!" Mori grabbed her rucksack from the figure on the ground, whose eyes were now wide in fear. "Don't you let me catch you near me or my stuff again," she snarled. She gave him one last threatening look before she turned to walk away. She had taken no more than three steps before she heard a dull _thud_ behind her.

She turned and saw a tall teenage boy, armed with twin hooked swords, his dark eyes locked on her.

"What?" she demanded, glad she had her own weapons within easy reach.

"What're you doing in the forest all alone?" the teenager asked, sizing Mori up.

"Nothing that concerns you," she said, swinging her rucksack onto her back, trying to sound tough and unafraid.

"If you're going to beat up on The Duke, it does concern me," he said, jerking is head to the young boy, who was now on his feet, standing beside him.

"All I did was take back what's rightfully mine," Mori said, refusing to give an inch in the face of his veiled threat.

"You Fire Nation?" the little boy asked.

"Do I look like gold-eyed Fire Swine?" Mori said angrily.

The young man with the swords relaxed visibly, dropping out of his fighting stance, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What did the Fire Nation do to you?"

"None of your business," Mori said, removing her gaze from his face, storm clouds rolling across her eyes.

"Whatever it was," he said, "it must've been bad enough to make you leave home. If you even had a home to run away from once they'd finished." Mori looked back at him, calculating. He clearly knew firsthand what the Fire Nation could – and would – do to keep the Earth Kingdom people in check. "If I'm right," he continued, "Then you probably don't have anywhere to go." He looked at her for confirmation. She nodded cautiously. Where was he going with this? "And you probably want to get back at the Fire Nation for what they did to you." Again, Mori nodded slowly. "You ever heard of the Freedom Fighters?" he asked, finally.

Of course she had. Everyone within a fifteen mile radius had heard of the Freedom Fighters. Mori had even heard General Chang complaining about their latest strike on more than one occasion. They were devilishly clever, she'd heard. Just organized enough to be a united and active group, not so systematic that the Fire Nation could predict where they would turn up next. It was rumored that they attacked swiftly and then vanished into the forest before a counterattack could be launched, and their hideout was yet to be discovered. Each theory of where they hid was wilder than the next.

"You're their leader, aren't you?" Mori asked. Something in his stance, the swagger in his tone, his unflinching confidence, told Mori that this boy was used to being in charge.

"Name's Jet," he said. "And I think you'd fit in with us, if you're interested. It's not every day someone can chase down The Duke. Someone like that is about as common as a runaway with swords of that quality," he added, nodding to the swords slung across Mori's back. "I'm impressed." A smile crept across his face and even into is dark, seemingly impenetrable eyes. Mori tried to suppress her own grin and, uncharacteristically, a flush of embarrassment. One of the most infamous rebels against the Fire Nation was impressed by _her_. "So, what do you think? Are you in?"

Mori thought of the rage in Chang's voice as he spoke of the Freedom Fighters: the only people for miles not under the Fire Nation's tyranny; the one problem Chang couldn't solve with orders or manipulation.

"I'm in."

Jet's face broke into a true grin, and Mori noticed for the first time how attractive he was: tall, lean, perfectly untidy hair, intelligent eyes, obvious charm – he was, quite simply, _cool_. She had sort of expected Jet to shake her hand, bow, or make some other formal gesture of acceptance, but, as she learned, this was simply not his way.

"Come on," Jet said as he started walking in the direction The Duke had been running. "So, what's your name?" he asked as Mori fell in step beside him, The Duke following several paces behind.

_My name's Mori_.

But she couldn't say that. What if Jet found out she was a member of the Tokushima family and dismissed her as a rich brat who ran away from her palace out of spite? She didn't think he'd understand trapped sisters, deluded mothers, and promises to absent bothers.

But, even more importantly, what if a rumor of a girl named Mori living in the forest, one of the Freedom Fighters, got back to Chang? She wouldn't put burning down the entire forest past him if that's what it took to find her. She knew him too well to think he'd give up and let her escape him.

"Smellerbee," she answered.

"Smellerbee?" Jet repeated, casting her a sideways glance.

"Yep."

"Cool."

They walked on for another few yards before Jet held up a hand to stop her. From behind the branch of one of the many red-leaved trees, he pulled out a rope that was hanging down. It disappeared into the leafy canopy above their heads.

"Watch The Duke," Jet said. The Duke pulled a similar rope from a neighboring tree and tugged on it. He was carried swiftly up, up – until he disappeared from sight.

"Give it a sharp pull and then hold on tight," Jet said, handing the rope to her. She took it in her hand and did as Jet said, and she found herself being pulled up, off the forest floor and into the treetops. She looked up and realized she was fast approaching a wooden platform built around the trunk of the tree with a square hole cut neatly into it, through which the rope descended from somewhere even higher up. She was pulled up through this hole and, several feet above it, the rope stopped, and she dropped onto the platform.

Jet came up on a rope seconds later on the other side of the platform. He stood beside her and made a wide, sweeping gesture with his hand, directing her attention to an amazing sight. The trees were all connected by a complex zigzag of platforms, bridges, ropes, and pulley systems, and around the trees were a multitude of small treehouses. She wasn't looking at a child's fort, she was looking at a city. The citizens? Dozens of children and teenagers – looking like they ranged in age from about eleven to eighteen – swinging on the ropes, running across the platforms, and moving into and out of the treehouses, talking, laughing – going about their daily lives.

"Hey, everybody!" Jet called, and within seconds everyone in sight was looking at him and his strange companion. He jerked his thumb towards her. "We've got a new one!" A cheer went up, and some of the kids started heading over, eager to meet her. Jet plucked a small grasslike shoot growing from the trunk of the tree and put it in his mouth. He smiled at her and said, "Welcome to the Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee."


	7. Choice

_AN: Sorry about the long wait between chapters. It's a mixture of being busy, having issues with this chapter, and just being lazy in general. I'm working on that. Anyway, here's the next installment!_

Chapter 7: Choice

Jet spent that afternoon introducing Mori to everyone in the gang while she struggled to keep all the names and faces straight. She noticed that most of the younger kids stuck together, playing games and goofing off, with the obvious exception of The Duke. The Duke tended to shadow Jet or one of the older kids, quiet, but obviously attentive to everything that was going on around him. Jet told Mori – after he sent The Duke off to find someone named Pipsqueak – that The Duke had joined earlier that year when Jed had caught him trying to steal food.

"I don't know how he found us or how he figured out how to get all the way up into the treehouses," Jet said. "Nobody's ever done it before. He's clever – _dead_ clever – and obviously used to fending for himself. I think he's been on his own for a while." Jet added this last statement quietly and with a heavy weight in his voice, and Mori thought, _I know the feeling. I bet _everyone_ here knows the feeling_.

"How old is he?" Mori asked.

"I don't think _he_ even knows for sure. We've guessed about nine," he said quietly, seeing The Duke approach.

"Pipsqueak and some of the others are making dinner," The Duke said.

"Good. I'm starving. Come on, Smellerbee," Jet said, heading across a bridge. "This way."

They arrived at the largest platform of them all, where on a low table a group of teenagers were chopping food, sorting it into bowls, and one massive figure carried a large, steaming pot out of a large treehouse and set it down.

"Hey, Jet," the boy said in a voice so low and loud Mori could feel it vibrating in her bones. "That the new girl?"

"Yep. Pipsqueak, this is Smellerbee. Smellerbee, Pipsqueak," Jet said.

"Hi, Smellerbee," the giant said, smiling.

"Hey," she responded, trying to act like she met teenagers with shoulders the width of tree trunks every day.

"That's Sneers," Jet said, pointing out a heavyset boy with small, beady eyes who waved in greeting and said, "Hello." Jet looked at the last unintroduced person and said, "And that's Longshot." The boy in question stood up and gave Mori a slight nod. He was tall, slender, and pale as bisque ceramic. He wore a hat that shaded his face, and Mori could barely see his eyes, which she could tell were dark and intelligent. An observer's eyes. He had a quiver of arrows slung across his back and there was a bow on the table in front of him.

Longshot looked at Jet, and Jet asked, "They're here?"

Mori looked from one to the other, wondering if she'd missed something.

Longshot nodded, glanced into the distance, and then back at Jet.

"All right, guys," Jet said at large. "There's a group of Fire Nation soldiers here in the forest – in _our_ forest. I say we wait to strike until we know more. We'll mark them; keep an eye on them, and plan accordingly. Longshot," Jet added quietly to the boy, "pull together a small team to plan for something tonight – you know who needs to be there." Longshot nodded, then glanced at Mori then back to Jet. "Yes," Jet said. "I want her there, too."

Mori felt her heart soar with excitement. She was one of the chosen ones, she was being given a chance to prove herself. She still couldn't quite believe they'd accepted her. But she also felt a nagging curiosity about Longshot. Did he ever speak? Could he? If he could, why was he so quiet? How could Jet tell exactly what he meant by only glances and nods?

Mori studied Longshot as he traveled down the ropes to the forest floor below. "Hey, Duke," Mori said.

"It's _The_ Duke!" he corrected as he ran past her.

"Wait!" Mori called, jogging to catch up. The Duke stopped and looked at her impatiently. "Does Longshot ever talk?" she asked.

"I've never heard him," The Duke said. "Or at least not yet," he added, a mischievous grin spreading across his young face. "But I've got a new plan to make him." He'd obviously been trying for a while. As The Duke scampered off, Jet approached Mori and said, "I want you to come to the meeting tonight. I think you'd be good at stealth observation – that's what we'll be doing. That is, if you want to," Jet said, obviously knowing Mori's response.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll go with you."

"Great," Jet said. "I know you'll be a great addition to the team. But you're going to need more armor. There's no telling what's going to happen. Sometimes our surprise attacks even surprise us, you know?"

"It's all opportunity," Mori said, nodding.

"Right," Jet said, taking the small green shoot from his mouth and throwing it over the side of the platform. "Follow me – I'll show you where we keep all our extra stuff."

He led her across several bridges and to a platform with a treehouse built all the way around the trunk of the tree. Jet pushed aside a cloth door and entered, Mori following behind. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she saw disorganized boxes of clothing, weapons, random bits of armor and padding, and a box of what appeared to be bolts and scraps of cloth.

"How'd you guys get all this?" Mori asked, approaching one of the armor boxes.

"It's what the Fire Nation leaves when we come around," Jet said with a streak of pride. "And whatever we could salvage from the towns they destroy. Take whatever you want – just make sure you can still move, all right? When Sneers first joined up, he put so much stuff on he couldn't move." Jet laughed. "Take your time. If we don't see you around dinner time, someone'll come get you."

"Thanks," Mori said as Jet headed for the door.

"No problem," Jet said, smiling. "We're just glad to have you with us." Mori couldn't help but grin like an idiot after he left.

She dug through the armor box slowly, coming across all kinds of protection gear in all sizes. The first thing she found was a reddish-brown breastplate made out of what could only be leather. It was thick, strong, and flexible, obviously meant to help absorb blows to the stomach, chest, or sides. She pulled it on (over her head, the way Kohana's much-loved bodices often did) and then she dropped into a fighting stance. It was awkward at first as she moved back and forth, lunged and dodged, and even did a quick somersault, springing back up into a defensive position; but as she got used to it, she liked it more and more. It helped make her very aware of her body and her stance, and she reminded herself of all the advice Chihiro had given her for combat.

Next, she found a shoulderpiece without a twin, but she kept it anyway, putting it on her left shoulder, figuring that it would be more vulnerable since most of her opponents would be right-handed. Then she found a pair of white gloves that appeared to be made of some leathery material. They fit snug around her thin fingers, and she reasoned that if she was going to be sliding across ropes and spending her time climbing trees, it would be good to protect her already callused hands.

She was about to leave when a piece of fabric in one of the other boxes caught her eye. It was a piece of completely ordinary red cloth, but she vividly remembered, it was the exact same color and texture as all the soldiers' uniforms. Of Chang's. Of the people who'd ripped her family – and her entire world – apart.

She took the red cloth and tied it around her right arm as a reminder of what she fought for, and of what she fought against. She looked around the room once more for any other hidden treasures, and noticed a small jar of paint atop a stack of boxes, a mirror beside it.

Mori had never been vain, but it struck her now that with all these sudden changes, she no longer knew what she looked like. Living at home, before she left her room, she'd catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and sometimes she'd stop for a moment, looking for some sort of confirmation.

Mori picked up the mirror and looked at herself. She was certainly different: her hair shorter, her eyes more tired, and she was now thoroughly dressed the part of a Freedom Fighter, but she could still see so much of her old self underneath it. She dipped her fingers in the red paint and gave herself stripes, two on each cheek. She then withdrew from her rucksack a jar of some black concoction Chihiro had given her to protect her eyes from the sun. She put some on around her eyes and looked in the mirror again. Now, she thought, she looked like a warrior.

She left the storage room and was trying to decide where she ought to go next when The Duke called to her from a distance, standing on a bridge about twenty yards away.

"Hey, Smellerbee! Come over here, Jet wants you in on the planning for tonight." Mori followed close behind him. They arrived at a treehouse near the giant platform, and Mori could hear Jet's voice issuing from it.

". . . has to do with _everything_," he was saying as they entered. Longshot, Pipsqueak, Sneers, and several others were listening to him, some perched on boxes, others on the floor, and some leaning against the wall. Jet nodded to her as she entered, then continued to address the group."We're going out on a scouting mission tonight. They set up a temporary camp, and most likely they'll be discussing their plans. We need to find out why they're here, how long they'll be staying, and what they'll be doing next. And how much weaponry they have – when it comes time to strike, we need to be ready. We'll decide how later, once we have more information. What do you think?"

Jet looked around, scanning everyone's faces as they murmured in general agreement. Mori saw Jet nod at Longshot. "We only need a small team tonight," Jet said. "Its easier to stay together, and it's not time to risk all our necks yet –" he smiled slyly and some of the others grinned or laughed softly.

"All right, then," Jet said. "Longshot, The Duke, and Smellerbee, you'll come with me tonight to watch the soldiers."

_Me?_ Mori wanted to ask. _You want me, the new girl, go go with you?_

"Pipsqueak, Sneers, you two have to keep an eye on things while we're out. We'll leave at sundown, and if we're not back within two or three hours at the most, something's gone wrong." Pipsqueak and Sneers nodded solemnly. "And everyone else, you've got to make sure everyone knows what's going on. We can't have anyone running around tonight. Everyone's got to stay quiet and stay here until we know what they're doing. If they're here looking for us, we don't want to make the job any easier. I don't want anybody out wandering tonight." Everyone but Jet, The Duke, Longshot, and Smellerbee left. "We've got to say hidden," Jet said, addressing those who remained. "We don't want to resort to combat tonight if we don't have to. It's too risky, especially when there's so few of us. Bring anything you need to fight with anyway, just in case. We'll go right at sundown, hopefully they'll be relaxed and off their guard. Anything they say about their plans we need to hear and remember. So be close enough to hear, but silent. A mistake could cost us a lot more than just information."

Mori felt as though the speech had been aimed directly at her. He was putting her up to a huge test, she could tell, and she had to prove her worth. _ I'm ready_, she thought

"Any questions?" Jet asked at large, though again Mori felt certain it was more for her benefit than anyone else's. When no one said anything, Jet grinned and said, "Excellent. We meet back here just before sundown. And in the meantime, Longshot, you should show Smellerbee where to settle in." Longshot nodded and then jerked his head towards the door while looking at Mori, indicating that she should follow him.

"So, Longshot," Mori said once they were outside, thinking about what The Duke had said about him. "How long have you been with the Freedom Fighters?" He simply shrugged.

"A long time?" Mori guessed, and Longshot nodded. "Why'd you join?" she asked. "What did the Fire Nation do to you?" Longshot stopped walking suddenly and Mori almost collided with him. She expected him to round on her and say something – that she'd never understand what he went through, that it was none of her business, that he didn't like her and didn't have to tell her a damn thing – but he just turned his head slightly, over his shoulder, and looked at her. One long, dark, meaningful look, and then he kept walking, leaving Mori standing there in shock.

She had never heard anyone say more in a moment than Longshot just had.


	8. Chance

Chapter 8: Chance

As the symptoms of night showed themselves in the forest and sky, four of the Freedom Fighters were sliding down ropes and landing silently on the floor, hearts racing as they prepared for their mission.

"All right," Jet said quietly as they gathered close to listen. "Once we get closer we'll climb up into the trees and stay there. Be close enough to listen, but don't get caught."

Longshot, The Duke, and Jet spread out and started moving through the trees towards the direction of the encampment. Mori filled the gap between The Duke and Jet and moved as swiftly as she could while still keeping silent. When they could see the flicker of firelight against the trees and hear the low rumble of conversation, Jet flung out his hand, telling them to stop. Jet nodded once, and the others all moved forward and shot up tree trunks and vanished into the leaves and darkness.

Mori felt as though she was back to her old self, before the Fire Nation was any more than an annoyance, when she'd hidden herself and played spritelike pranks and listened to the men tell stories about the spirits in the woods.

When she was high enough to have leaf cover below her, she inched across a thick branch to listen to the men. There were at least forty or fifty soldiers gathered, eating, drinking, and talking. Mori pricked her ears for words that might indicate useful information.

". . . honestly, I just want to get out of here and back to my wife . . ."

"I joined to get _away_ from my wife!" There was a round of laughter.

". . . gone completely crazy, I'm telling you," Mori heard from another group. She turned her head to hear them better.

"General Chang?!"

"Yes!"

"How? What happened?" a third man asked.

"That's just it," the first man said, relishing the story. "It makes no sense. Apparently his Earthwife's little sister was a regular devil. She ran off, and now he's desperate to catch her."

"Why? Shouldn't he be glad to have her gone?" asked the second soldier.

"That's what you'd _think_," said the first. "But he's having us hunt her down. I mean, he's always been a guy who likes respect –" Mori almost snorted in disbelief. _Control, more like_. "But he's just _obsessed_ with catching this girl." Mori was almost happy she'd caused Chang even a fraction of what he'd caused her. But then she realized that Kohana was the one who'd bear the brunt of Chang's insanity. _What have I done?_ she thought for a moment. She tried to push it away. "He's torn apart the town looking for the girl," she heard the soldier say, and her stomach churned and she heard echoes of __ in her mind. No, she thought, trying to silence them. _Everyone makes choices, and everyone else has to live with them_, she told herself.

Mori looked up and saw Longshot perched in a tree just a few yards away. She'd felt like she was being watched. Jet was nowhere to be seen, and The Duke was in a tree on her other side, double the distance away Longshot was.

Just then, one of the soldiers stood, and Mori assumed he was some sort of high-ranking man because everyone fell silent and looked at him.

"As soon as word arrives, we will leave these woods and join another battalion. But for now, here we are, and I don't want complaints. I just advise that you all stay alert. There are demons in these woods."

Some of the man seemed to shiver or glance over their shoulders while others simply laughed (some out of nerves, it seemed), or made noises of obvious skepticism. The speaker sat down and others immediately moved in towards him.

"Where's the other battalion?" one soldier asked.

"Traveling to a village about a mile from here. They were previously stationed in another village on the other side of the forest, but they're not needed anymore." There was a round of unpleasant laughter, and Mori got the feeling that this other village was now too broken to need that much supervision. "We have to help them get this new village."

"Is it true that General Chang's gone crazy?" another soldier asked boldly. The leader stared at him for a moment, clearly weighing his words, before he said, "Such insubordination could get you into a lot of trouble, soldier." He let the statement hang there for a moment before continuing. "But it's true he's been acting erratically. Some problems with the host family."

"Didn't he marry the rich Earthwench and her sister made him crazy?" Mori saw the incendiary flames in the man's eyes as he asked. The leader was spared the trouble of answering because of the loud _crack_ that echoed around the clearing from The Duke's branch. He'd inched too far. Luckily, he'd sprung back and was now clutching the trunk of the tree, shaking.

Many of the soldiers had stood up, some huddled instinctively together, all of them looking around for the source of the sound, some terrified, some suspicious.

"What was that?" someone asked loudly.

"These woods have spirits!" a hysterical voice called back.

Mori saw the leader looking around, but then his eyes locked on The Duke's tree. He stepped forward. _He knows we're here!_ Without pausing to think further, Mori cawed like a raven-hawk and rattled one of her branches, meanwhile yanking the stub of a previously fallen branch off of the tree. She hurled it as hard as she could, away from The Duke's direction. The soldiers were dead silent by then, listening to the sounds of it moving away through the trees.

A round of nervous laughter filled the clearing as one man said, "It was a _bird_!"

"You all looked like you'd seen a ghost!"

"So did you!"

Only the leader wasn't joining everyone else's conversation. He was still looking around, glaring almost, and Mori was terrified he'd hear her wildly beating heart or the rush of air in and out of her lungs. She looked around for Jet to see what he wanted them to do next. She scanned the trees but didn't see him. But she heard, and she was certain it was him, a birdlike whistle. She saw the shadow of movement from Longshot's tree and something darting through the trees and concluded that he'd fired an arrow to keep up the bird illusion.

As the soldiers continued to talk and grew more relaxed, Mori breathed easier. She looked over at The Duke, who was still sitting close to the tree's trunk, eyes wide. She sat back on her own branch and went over what just happened in her mind. She'd either just secured her place with the Freedom Fighters or gotten herself kicked out. She just couldn't decide which.

She stayed there until all of the men – with the exception of a few standing watch – had gone to bed. She'd lost sight of all the others, but she was certain that they wouldn't have left her behind. At least, she was pretty certain.

She was extraordinarily tired, she realized. She felt as though she could fall asleep right there in the trees, but the sounds of someone else climbing up reminded her why she was there. She turned and saw Jet, who jerked his head, telling her that she should follow as he leapt down, landing lightly. Mori followed, and as soon as she hit the ground, they all started heading back to camp in silence.

When they were once again in the safety of the treehouses, Jet addressed them all. "Let's have it," he said. "What did we all find out?"

"They said they were here looking for someone," The Duke piped up. "Some girl who ran away from somebody."

"Her name was Mori," Mori said. "Apparently it's very important to some General Chang that he get her back."

"Good," Jet said. "I say we keep a close eye on them for a while. They said they'd be splitting up. It's easier to strike when there's fewer of them. And then there's the town they were talking about – that's going to become a priority. We don't want any more fire swine in our area." Jet looked around at them as they nodded in understanding. "But we have to be more careful," he said. "No mistakes this time." The Duke hung his head and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly.

"Hey," Jet put his hand on the child's shoulder and said comfortingly, "It's okay. It happens to everyone. And anyway, there was no harm done. In fact –" he turned to Mori. "Nicely done. I thought we were finished for a minute there. How did you some up with that?"

"I've been teaching myself bird calls since I was little," she said, swelling with pride. Clearly Jet hadn't expected such brilliance form the new girl. "And I used to hide in the trees and throw stuff at soldiers when they first came to my village. Whenever I came close to getting caught, I'd do something like that."

"Well, it was great," Jet said. "Longshot and I stepped in because some of the men were still looking skeptical." Jet and Longshot looked at each other, and then Jet nodded. "With that general so unhinged, it'll be hard to predict what will happen next. That means we'll have to be ready for anything. And that involves getting enough sleep." The Duke groaned, and Jet just laughed and said, "Come on, don't give me that." The Duke groaned once more to show his distaste and then scampered off. Jet turned to Mori and said, "We need to find you a place to sleep," then he looked at Longshot and said, "Hey, you've still got half a room empty, right?" Longshot nodded. "And you're sure you won't mind?" Longshot shrugged. "All right then," Jet said, turning to Mori once again. "It looks like you'll be sharing with Longshot, if that's okay with you."

"It's fine," Mori said.

"Excellent," Jet said, smiling. "We did a lot of important work today, and have even more to do tomorrow." He reached out and touched her shoulder in a congratulating way. "Get a good night's rest, okay, Smellerbee?" She nodded, her mind racing. _You've been accepted! You, Smellerbee, are a Freedom Fighter_.

Jet disappeared into what she could only assume was his room, and she followed Longshot across a bridge to his quarters. The only thing dampening her spirits at all was Longshot's silence. It made her uncomfortable. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it. She felt like he was reserving judgment on her, waiting to see if she really was what she seemed.

When they got to his treehouse, Longshot pulled aside the cloth door and entered, Smellerbee following behind. It was a small room, and the few objects in it looked neat and organized. On one side, there was a mat with a pillow and folded blanket at the head. Beside that, along the wall, there was an upside-down crate being used as a bedside table. Smellerbee could see that there were several objects on it, but in the darkness she couldn't make out what they were. On the other side, there was an empty mat on the floor, and a similarly deserted-looking overturned crate. Longshot nodded to the uninhabited side of the room, and Smellerbee took this as her cue to drop her bag beside the crate. Longshot headed for his side of the room and put down his bow and arrow before moving to a chest at the wall opposite the door. He opened it and pulled out a pillow and blanket, which he handed to Smellerbee. There was a curtain tucked behind the chest, Smellerbee noticed, and it looked like if it was pulled out it would run the length of the room, dividing the two halves from ceiling to floor. Longshot pulled the curtain into place and then looked at Smellerbee, nodded once, then disappeared into his half of the room.

Smellerbee tossed her pillow down on the mat and sat down to take off her boots, gloves, armor, and headband. As she lay down, she thought of where she was this time last night. Worlds away, it seemed, sneaking out of a mansion and into the forest, risking everything for her freedom, walking towards a new world, and a new life.


	9. Stories

Chapter 9: Stories

It had been three weeks since Smellerbee has first joined the Freedom Fighters, but she felt as though she'd been with them all her life. She already knew just about everything about the group and everyone in it. She knew how that all managed to live and work together, and had each of their stories memorized.

Everyone had a story of what brought them here – some were runaways, some refugees, some were simply wanderers. There was a rhythm they all lived by; rising midmorning, moving throughout the day like so many ants, and retiring each night late, excited to begin again the next day. Smellerbee had had friends before – she'd hang around with the village kids and the servants' children, but there was always a wall. They all knew she was an outsider. But here, she was one of them. There was no silk curtain between them. She was as much a rice and water child as the rest of them.

What she found most striking was that there was an unspoken hierarchy in the group, evident only to someone who would step back and look at it. There was the younger group; kids eleven and twelve years old who tended to spend their time playing games and building new parts of the treehouse, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Then there was a group of older kids, young teenagers, who kept an eye on the younger kids, sometimes joining in the games, other times breaking up the arguments. They helped with a little of the cooking and maintenance of the treehouse. All Jet needed to do was comment that _that_ bridge felt loose or that _this_ floor needed reinforcement, and one of these kids would see that it was done. And then there was the third group, the smallest, and the most respected. They tended to be the oldest, or at least those most hardened by the war. They were the best fighters. Smellerbee had been there for just over a week when she realized that she, somehow, belonged in this third category. She'd proven herself – _she was one of them_. As such Jet had started letting her in on the group's stories and secrets. First she learned all of the various birdlike whistles they used to communicate while hiding out in the trees. It was actually The Duke who taught her them. She'd felt a little strange at first, receiving instruction from a child, but she grew used to it quickly. He may have been young, but there was something about him that told Smellerbee he had an old soul.

What she'd been most anxious to hear about, of course, were the stories behind each group member.

"I've been on my own since I was fifteen," Jet explained one afternoon during Smellerbee's third week. "Before . . . well, my parents were killed by the Fire Nation when I was eight. I was never the same after that. I got sent to an orphanage – I hated it there. At least it was a roof, I guess, but I always felt alone, you know?" he looked up at her over the stolen food stores they were examining, a little twig protruding from his lips (as always). "Anyway, I ran off and wandered around for a while. Nobody came looking for me. Too many others to worry about. Probably didn't even notice I was gone." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. Like he wasn't even worth anybody's notice back then. "I learned a lot very fast living on my own like that."

"Because that's the only option, right?" Smellerbee said with a short laugh.

"Right," Jet agreed, grinning. "I was pretty much alone until I met Longshot – that was two years later – and we'd mess with the Fire Nation together. Soon enough, we'd had a couple of others traveling around with us – like Sneers," he said. "Sneers came from a little more money than us. No clue how to take care of himself, so he tagged along. He's still turned out useful, though. He's strong. Not quite as strong as Pipsqueak, though," Jet smiled again, proudly. "He's only seventeen, but because he's so big he was a professional fighter – watching the matches is pretty big in some of the seedier parts of towns around here – but when the Fire Nation came around, they started shutting it down, saying they'd 'save the Earth citizens from their own barbarianism' – they kicked everyone out and when Pipsqueak went looking for work, he ran into some of the soldiers in the woods. They probably would've killed him if we hadn't stopped them."

"What about The Duke?" Smellerbee asked. "Where'd he come from?"

Jet shrugged. "No idea. One night, we found him up in the treehouses trying to steal from us. Which is impressive to begin with – we're not easy to find up here – so I told him he could stay. I'd steal when I had to when I was younger, so I understood. I don't think he'd ever had much of a family or anything. I think he just wandered." Smellerbee could tell Jet had a soft spot for The Duke, and she couldn't blame him. They all had aspects of The Duke in themselves, she thought. _He's just the more up-front version of the rest of us_.

"You said you and Longshot started this," she said, seeing him at a distance, carving out more arrows. "What's his story?"

"He's the only one whose history I don't know," Jet said. "But I think he spent a lot of time on his own like I did. He never told me, but I can tell the Fire Nation hurt him bad."

"And how do you . . . ?" Smellerbee had been burning to ask how they communicated since she'd arrived.

"He doesn't talk, but once you know him, you can pretty much figure out what he thinks."

"Has he ever talked?"

"Not to me," Jet said. "I get the feeling he can, but he just chooses not to." He studied Smellerbee for a moment before he said, "So what's _your_ story, then?"

"The Fire Nation took my father away for being an Earthbender and by brother for being a rebel –" she felt a strange, sad pride. Jet nodded respectfully. "– My mother went crazy after that – she never could handle much of anything – and my sister . . . well, I just couldn't take it anymore. They'd all given up. I knew if I stayed, I'd be worn down or killed, too. So I left."

Jet nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry," he said. "We've all lost things we can't get back."

**:–:–:–:**

The next evening, Jet announced that it was time to strike against the soldiers in the woods.

"If we ambush the ones here in the forest," he said to his elite group. "That'll distract them from the occupied village not to far from here. We can restock so we'll have supplies enough to free the village."

"How're we going to do it?" Smellerbee asked, the familiar rush of excitement flooding through her. She was ready to fight.

"Tomorrow we'll get up before dawn and station ourselves in the trees around their encampment. We'll have to be patient – we need to strike when they're distracted. If nothing comes along before midday . . . we'll come up with something." He glanced sideways at The Duke, and Smellerbee could easily picture him darting around the camp, wreaking havoc enough to occupy all of the soldiers. "I want everyone to get a lot of sleep tonight," Jet said. "We can't afford to make mistakes. Everyone bring your weapons and be ready. Watch each other's backs – and your own."

With those final words of warning the group split up and went to their treehouses.

"Are you nervous?" Sneers asked Smellerbee as they walked to their rooms.

"No," Smellerbee said. "I want to fight."

"Oh, yeah, me too," Sneers said quickly. He'd clearly been looking for someone as nervous as he was.

"What about you?" he asked Longshot, who was several paces behind them. Longshot looked at Sneers, and Smellerbee knew his look meant, _No, I'm not nervous_. She couldn't help but laugh a little at Sneers as he went off, most likely to seek out somebody to commiserate with.

"Hey, Longshot," Smellerbee said, waiting for him to catch up with her. "What do you think is going to happen with that village? Are we going to get them out?" He nodded, looking grim. "But won't that be a good thing?" Smellerbee asked. Longshot shrugged ambiguously then glanced in the direction of Jet's treehouse. Smellerbee sighed internally, figuring that she wasn't going to get much else out of Longshot, and resigning herself to the fact that she'd need a lot more time to learn his language.

"Hey, Smellerbee," she turned and saw Jet beckoning to her from the platform outside his treehouse.

"What is it?"

"I've seen you practice with that slingshot," he said. "And you're pretty good."

"Thanks," she said, smiling. She didn't think he'd noticed – or that he'd take the slingshot seriously as a weapon.

"I think it might come in hand tomorrow," he said. "If your aim's as good as I think it is, you could be a big help." He was taunting her now. Daring her to prove herself.

"How good do you think I am?" she shot back. She'd meet his challenge.

"See that knothole down there?" She looked and saw a tree across the way, a diagonal distance of about forty feet, a downward angle of about forty-five degrees. It was a small target.

"Yeah?"

"Can you hit it?"

Without a word, Smellerbee withdrew a stone slightly smaller than an acorn from the pouch at her hip and took her slingshot from its place tucked into her belt. She settled the stone in place and drew back –

_TAP_.

She'd hit it perfectly. The stone bounced away and blended in with the forest floor.

"Excellent," Jet said, with the familiar smile that meant his plan was working perfectly.

"Okay, he said. There's a spot right here," he turned and pointed to a spot at the very base of his skull, and Smellerbee noticed how rich the color of his hair was – _focus_, she told herself. "If you hit a soldier there, it'll knock him out," Jet said. If I need you to, I'll give you the signal," he said. "So be waiting with the slingshot, but bring the daggers and swords as well – they'll be more useful once you're on the ground." Smellerbee nodded seriously, but on the inside she was nearly giddy. She had a special job to fulfill – _Jet_ had noticed how talented she was. He was _impressed_ by her skills.

She went back to her room, and upon entering she found that Longshot was waiting for her. He looked from her face to the slingshot in her hand.

"Oh, Jet was asking me to bring this tomorrow," she said when Longshot looked at her expectantly. "He says it'll be useful." Longshot nodded, and Smellerbee could swear that she saw the shadow of a smile flit across his face.

**:–:–:–:**

It was later that same night, and Smellerbee couldn't sleep. She was staring at the ceiling, thinking. She'd done things to mess up the Fire Nation before, but this somehow felt different. it was going to be a genuine battle – it would be dangerous. Unpredictable.

"Longshot?" she said quietly. She heard nothing, so she knew he was awake. The only time he made any noise at all was when he breathed deeply in his sleep, and even that was nearly inaudible. She had to listen to hear him. "Has anyone ever died in the Freedom Fighters?" The curtain between them was pulled to the side. He was looking at her now, and she felt sure he was giving her a firm _No_. "But what if –" _ Stop worrying_, his look seemed to say. "Do you really think it'll be okay?" Longshot let go of the curtain and settled himself back down. _Yes, now go back to sleep_. Smellerbee rolled back over and closed her eyes. She heard the old familiar words echo in her mind.

_Remember what you fight for._

I'll remember.

_AN: Sorry about my general failure in updating on a regular, speedy schedule. Don't worry, I have a good excuse – I was doing a ton of traveling without access to a computer, first around the country and then internationally. I should be posting more regularly now. Anyway, I'd really appreciate some reviews, so fire away! Thanks!_


	10. New

Chapter 10: New

Smellerbee's dream was strange: a swirl of people, changing landscapes, and confused emotions – but instantly, it seemed, she was opening her eyes to see Longshot over her, and the dream was lost.

Longshot was fully dressed already, crouched by Smellerbee's head, a hand on her shoulder to wake her up. He jerked his head towards the door as if to say _time to go_, then left in silence. Smellerbee scrambled up and pulled on her armor, scattered haphazardly around her mat, and double-checked that she had her slingshot and dagger before heading out. She'd decided that the swords were too much for today – there weren't that many soldiers and she didn't want to be held down by the weight. And anyway, she could always improvise if she needed to.

"We're just waiting for Pipsqueak and The Duke," Jet said quietly to her as she joined him, Sneers, and Longshot on the ground. The Duke swung down from the trees and said, "I got him; he's coming."

"Excellent," Jet said. "So here's the plan: we'll sneak around their encampment and hide in the trees. We'll wait for a distraction, and then I'll start and you guys join a little later – they won't even see the rest of you coming."

Pipsqueak came down just then, and Sneers explained the plan to him while Jet addressed Smellerbee. "Keep an eye on me," he said. "I might need you to take out someone with the slingshot, got it?" She nodded. "Let's go," Jet whispered to all of them, and they set off through the trees.

When they could see the faint glow from the soldiers' fire, Jet stopped them. He pointed to everyone in turn, giving each of them a direction to head in wordlessly. He had Smellerbee position herself in a tree right beside his and once they were set he let out a soft birdcall. The response came form across the clearing a moment later; the others were in position, too. Now, there was nothing to do but wait.

**:–:–:–:**

There was an hour of waiting before the soldiers began to wake up, and another as they ate breakfast. Smellerbee was just beginning to wonder if their food was as delicious as it smelled when she heard a voice in the distance coming closer – one that was too young to belong to a soldier.

" . . . but the important thing is that –" a boy a year or two younger than Smellerbee pushed aside a branch as he stepped into the clearing. He was dressed entirely in blue. _Water tribe?_ "– we're safe from the . . ." His two companions had entered the clearing behind him, now, one a girl dressed in blue and the other bald with arrow tattoos. _Airbender tattoos!_ Smellerbee recognized them from a drawing she'd seen in what must have been a past life – in her old home, tutored like all proper rich children.

Smellerbee watched as the three were trapped by fire, the boy in blue's shirt catching for a moment before the girl put it out with waterbending. _So they have to be Water Tribe_. Smellerbee looked over at Jet as the boy said, "If you let us pass, we promise not to hurt you," and Jet nodded to her. She took careful aim with her slingshot and pebble at the soldier now speaking to the kids and hit him exactly where she'd been told. He fell forward onto the ground, unconscious.

Jet now leapt boldly onto a lower branch, pausing for a moment, preparing to strike.

"Look!" the girl cried, pointing to him.

Jet pulled out his swords and Smellerbee smiled smugly as he took out four soldiers swiftly, and she stood up, preparing to drop.

"They're in the trees!" a soldier shouted across the clearing, staring up into a tree that held The Duke. The child jumped down from his branch and landed on the soldier's shoulders, spinning his helmet around backwards, laughing as the man stumbled around blindly. Arrows immediately hit three surrounding soldiers, and Smellerbee saw that Longshot was now hanging upside down, sending more and more arrows flying across the clearing. She marveled momentarily at his perfect aim before she watched Sneers drop and take out two soldiers. It was time to join the fray. She put away her slingshot, withdrew her dagger, and leapt to the ground.

The tattooed boy and the girl in blue were handling a trio of soldiers with bending to her right while the boy in blue screamed like an idiot in an apparent attempt at a battle cry. To her left she saw that The Duke's soldier – still unable to see while The Duke clanged on his still-backwards helmet – was shouting for help, and three more soldiers were rising to the occasion. Without thinking twice, Smellerbee ran at them, clubbing one with the handle of her dagger, knocking him out. The other two turned on her, and she ran towards a nearby tree, launched herself off of its trunk, and body-slammed one of the soldiers, driving her shoulder into his broad chest. He had a pair of swords in a sheath on his back, which she pulled out (after putting her dagger in her teeth), turning to face the other soldier, who was likewise armed. He stared at her for a moment, incredulous, then ran off, dropping his swords behind him. She turned back to the soldier on the ground, kicked him over, and took the sheath from him and slung it across her own back just before a soldier with a spear approached her.

She let out a derisive laugh before she swung the sword in her left hand upwards to push the spear away and pushed him against the pole of one of the soldiers' tents, her right sword across his throat. The man dropped his spear and stared at her, terrified, before ducking away and running as his companion had. Smellerbee laughed after him then turned into the clearing, anticipating another attack, but all of the soldiers had scattered. Even those knocked unconscious had either woken up enough to scramble to safety or been dragged away by their friends. Smellerbee grinned in a self-satisfied way. They'd showed them what happens when you mess with the Freedom Fighters.

She heard footsteps running and turned to watch the very last soldier, who had been hiding in a tent, run into the woods. _You'd better run_. Swords were embedded in the ground around her, and she still held those she'd stolen from the soldier in her hands. She, like all of the others, turned her attention to Jet and the newcomers. He told them proudly, "My name's Jet, and these are my Freedom Fighters." He introduced them each individually. "Sneers, Longshot, Smellerbee," she brandished the swords upon hearing her name. She wouldn't let them think her weak just because she was the girl of the group. She was no token – she was one of them. "The Duke, and Pipsqueak."

The airbender walked over to The Duke and Pipsqueak and mistakenly addressed The Duke, Pipsqueak . . . that's a funny name!"

"You think my name's funny?" the real Pipsqueak asked in his booming voice.

"It's hilarious!" the airbender said, and they both laughed.

Smellerbee wondered why this airbender had needed their help so much. She'd heard there were no airbenders left – except for possibly the Avatar, but surely the Avatar could have taken out the army single-handedly? Anyway, he was only a kid. He and his friends had barely done anything as far as she had seen. She glanced at Longshot and thought she saw thoughts she couldn't quite read etched across his face.

"All right, guys, you know what to do!" Jet called to them, and they scattered themselves in the camp, going through tents and boxes in search of anything useful. The Duke called out to Smellerbee for help with something he'd found – a barrel full of staves too heavy for him to lift. She sent him off to find something else while she took the staves out – they didn't have much need for the barrel, they already had one full of similar weapons – and she carried them out to the fire pit where they'd put everything worth taking. She passed by the boy in blue and was determined not to look at him – she could feel his disapproval radiating from him. She didn't trust him. He and the girl – who looked like she must be his sister – were too unskilled and useless, she decided harshly. And she didn't like the way the girl fawned over Jet. She glanced over at them talking and felt inexplicably irritable. While Pipsqueak and Sneers pulled one of the soldiers' carts into place between several tents and The Duke discovered more barrels of supplies, Longshot pulled Smellerbee aside.

"What?" she snapped. He glanced over her shoulder at the water tribe boy. "I don't trust them," she said. Longshot glanced at the Avatar.

"So?" she challenged. "We still don't know anything about them. I mean, they barely even fought just now!" Longshot gave her a look that said unmistakably _be reasonable_. "Come on," Smellerbee groaned. Longshot looked over to Jet and the girl and then back to Smellerbee. _Jet seems to trust them_, his look said. "They're just talking," Smellerbee said. Longshot looked at her strangely for a moment. They heard Jet call to everyone that they were heading out. "Let's go," she said, annoyed. She knew Longshot well enough by now to know what he was thinking, and she didn't like it. Especially since, though she wouldn't admit it to herself, he was right.

Her temper was not improved when she realized that the Avatar and his friends were joining them to the hideout. She leaned on the wagon and watched as the boy was dragged up by a rope while the Avatar leapt up easily. (She had to at least acknowledge that it was impressive watching him fly up through the trees.) But she as not impressed by the way Jet carried the girl up with him, his arm around her waist and her hand on his chest. _Can she not hold a rope on her own?_ Smellerbee thought scathingly. As she reached up for a rope of her own, she noticed Longshot looking at her appraisingly. She let out a frustrated breath as she pulled on the rope. She did not care what Longshot thought, but she couldn't get that look out of her mind.

As she approached to top, she heard Jet saying, " . . . the Fire Nation can't find us."

"They would love to find you, wouldn't they, Jet?" she said, grinning and landing lightly on the platform.

"It's not gonna happen, Smellerbee," he said confidently, and she believed him.

The others started coming up on ropes now, until the platform was full. Jet led the way across a bridge, the girl beside him, as he told her about what Freedom Fighters did.

"One day, we'll drive the Fire Nation out of here for good and free that town," Jet concluded.

"That's so brave," the girl said breathlessly. _Twit,_ Smellerbee thought.

"Yeah, nothing's braver than a guy in a treehouse," the boy said. Smellerbee felt a rush of anger. _This from the idiot who couldn't take down a single soldier on his own_.

"Don't pay any attention to my brother," the girl said. As Jet told her some of their stories, Smellerbee decided that these newcomers were annoying but harmless ad that Jet was just being nice to the girl. They stopped, talking, and Smellerbee watched them out of the corner of her eye as she passed, all the while feeling the gaze of someone else's observant eyes.


	11. Conflict

Chapter 11: Conflict

That evening everyone in the Freedom Fighters was sitting on or around the dining platform, eating dinner and eagerly awaiting Jet's speech. He always made one after successful attacks, and it was always good. Smellerbee was a little irked that the newcomers were still there, but shed resigned herself to simply waiting until they left. All that they'd heard about the Avatar before his arrival indicated that he had been traveling around. There was no reason he'd stay here any longer than he stayed anywhere else, Smellerbee told herself.

When Jet stood, everyone immediately quieted down and fixed their eyes on him. He smiled for a moment before beginning. He loved their rapture. "Today, we struck another blow against the Fire Nation swine." He raised his glass to them, and they shouted triumphantly. "I got a special joy from the look on one soldier's face when the Duke dropped down on his helmet and rode him like a wild hog monkey." The child stepped up onto the table and walked in a circle, pumping his arms victoriously as everyone cheered for him. "Now, the Fire Nation thinks they don't have to worry about a couple of kids hiding in the trees," he paused for effect while everyone jeered and booed appropriately. "Or maybe they are _dead wrong_." Everyone cheered again, but Smellerbee felt slightly uncomfortable. There was something dangerous in Jet's voice she hadn't heard before.

Jet sat down and began talking to Katara, and Smellerbee feigned interest in her food while she listened to every word.

"Hey, Jet, nice speech," Katara said.

"Thanks. By the way, I was really impressed with you and Aang. That was some great bending I saw out there today." Smellerbee could tell it wasn't just an innocent compliment – he wanted something from them.

"Well, _he's_ great. He's the Avatar. I could use some more training," she said.

"Avatar, huh? Very nice," Jet said appraisingly. Yes, he was definitely planning something.

"Thanks, Jet," the Avatar said.

"So I might know a way that you and Aang can help in our struggle," Jet said.

"Unfortunately, we have to leave tonight," Sokka said, standing up and walking away. _Good_, Smellerbee thought.

"Sokka, you're kidding me!" Jet said emphatically. "I needed you on a special mission tomorrow." _Are you serious?_ Smellerbee thought. _You need_ him _on a mission?_ Then she realized that he probably just needed to win over Sokka to keep the other two around. _Please see through him_, Smellerbee thought. But Sokka said hesitantly, "Okay. I guess we can stay a few more days."

_I hate you_.

**:–:–:–:**

It was Longshot and Smellerbee's turn to wash all of the dinner dishes in the second shift of the night (they always worked in pairs in two shifts; one pair did the first half of the dishes, the second pair the second half). They were standing over a basin of water, scrubbing platters clean, Smellerbee still fuming, making the normally calm silence between them harsh and uncomfortable.

Longshot splashed water at her without warning.

"Hey!" she yelped, glaring at him. He was smiling, almost laughing, telling her, _Come on, lighten up_. She splashed him back and his smile broadened. She laughed as he pulled a mock angry face at her and went to splash her again, but just then The Duke walked in. They both stopped what they were doing immediately. The Duke looked at them strangely for a moment before he said, "Smellerbee, Jet said we wants to talk to you and Pipsqueak." Smellerbee glanced at Longshot and he nodded to her then looked at The Duke, who just stood there dumbly while Smellerbee dried her hands.

"He wants you to help him finish," Smellerbee said to The Duke as she passed him.

"I know," The Duke said sadly. "I wanted _him_ to tell me that."

"He was telling you," Smellerbee said as she walked out the door. "You just weren't listening."

She headed for Jet's treehouse and found him and Pipsqueak already there waiting for her.

"We're going out scouting tomorrow afternoon," Jet said. "Sokka's coming along, but I don't know if we can trust him – he doesn't like me much. We all have to keep an eye on him, got it?" Pipsqueak and Smellerbee nodded. "Good. I'll see you both tomorrow, then." That was their cue to leave.

"Hey, Smellerbee," Pipsqueak said once they were out of earshot of Jet's treehouse. "D'you think that Jet likes that girl, Katara?"

"No," she answered immediately. "He's just being nice because she's friends with the Avatar and he thinks we could use the Avatar's help."

"Are you sure?" Pipsqueak asked.

"Yes," she lied.

**:–:–:–:**

That night, just before she fell asleep, Smellerbee realized that that evening was the very first time she'd seen Longshot truly smile. She liked to think there might be a side of him only she got to see.

**:–:–:–:**

Early the next afternoon, Jet pulled Smellerbee and Pipsqueak away from their daily activities to tell them that it was time to go. They found Sokka and Jet said offhandedly, "Hey, we're going out scouting and could really use your help."

"Okay," Sokka said eagerly. "Where are we going?"

"There's been a lot of traffic through the forest recently," Jet explained as they all headed for the descent platform. "We need to keep an eye on who's coming and going – we've got something big planned soon and we need as much information as possible. We need to know who's coming through here, and why. We need to keep them scared – they need to remember who they're dealing with."

Smellerbee and Pipsqueak glanced at each other. Neither of them had heard of this big plan. It was very unusual. Once Sokka had dropped to the forest floor, Smellerbee spoke up.

"Jet, what –"

"Not now, Smellerbee," he said. "Let's go."

Jet dropped down and Smellerbee watched him. Something was going on. There was something, barely recognizable, but _something_ different. That indefinable sense of danger was back. She and Pipsqueak followed without speaking. The four of them walked through the forest just to the side of the path until Jet stopped them and said, "Smellerbee, Pipsqueak, you two go over there. Sokka and I will stay here. You know what to do." Smellerbee nodded and she and Pipsqueak darted across the path to find a suitable tree to hide in. They hadn't been waiting for more than half and hour before they heard a birdlike whistle – Jet telling them to be ready. They moved across their branches to where they'd have a better view. Smellerbee whistled back. _We're ready_. A moment later, Jet whistled again – _only one approaching. Standby_.

Smellerbee looked through the leaves and saw a single old man dressed in red moving slowly down the path. Smellerbee felt her blood rise. His clothing looked like that of the Fire Nation guests at Kohana's wedding.

Jet dropped to the ground in front of the man, swords drawn, and Smellerbee heard his voice, clear and strong, demand, "What are you doing in our woods, you leech?"

"Come on," Smellerbee whispered to Pipsqueak, and they started to head down the trunk of the tree as they heard the man say, "Please, sir, I'm just a traveler." _The hell you are_, Smellerbee thought. _Probably traveling between towns your friends have enslaved. It's nice to be free, isn't it? _

Pipsqueak was already on the path, and the man backed into Pipsqueak's broad chest and fell to the ground. He moved to crawl away, but Pipsqueak put his foot on the man's bony back, keeping him there with barely any force.

"Do you like destroying towns? Do you like destroying families?" Jet shouted. Smellerbee had never seen him one-on-one with a Fire Nation civilian, and she had to admit he was a little frightening.

"Oh, please, let me go! Have mercy!" the man begged pathetically.

"Does the Fire Nation let people go? Does the Fire Nation have mercy?" Jet was growing more and more angry and wild. He drew his foot back, aiming for a kick –

"Jet, he's just and old man!" Sokka had caught Jet's foot with his club. Smellerbee had forgotten Sokka was even there; she was so fixated on Jet and the old man.

"He's Fire Nation! Search him!" Jet ordered. Pipqueak lifted the old man up by his shoulders and Smellerbee stepped forward to rifle through his coat.

"But he's not hurting anyone!" Sokka said emphatically. _Not yet, at least, _Smellerbee thought.

The man had nothing on him but a black satchel. She was about to open it and search it while Jet shouted at Sokka, but then she heard him say, "Remember why you fight!"

"We got his stuff, Jet," Smellerbee said, forcing a smile. She wanted to leave. She was painfully remembering her brother's last words to her. _Remember what you fight for_.

Smellerbee moved away from the old man. She couldn't look at him. She walked away and Jet and Pipsqueak followed her, leaving Sokka behind for a moment until Jet called him back.

Smellerbee didn't hear any of it. She was still reliving her brother's last stand again and again.

_Remember what you fight for_.

Remember why you fight.


	12. Plan

Chapter 12: Plan

When they got back to the hideout, Sokka ascended first, followed by Pipsqueak, but as Jet reached for a rope Smellerbee grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Hang on," she said. "What's this big mission you've got planned? Why haven't you told any of us about it yet?"

"Come on, Smellerbee, don't you trust me?" he asked, looking at her, his dark eyes earnest.

"Yes, I do, but –"

"Then don't worry about it. I'll tell you all about it tonight, okay? I still have to work out some of the details." Smellerbee looked at him uncertainly. There was something about him that she didn't quite feel comfortable with right now. Since the arrival of the Avatar and his friends there had been something different about him. She couldn't quite place it, but it was definitely off-putting. "Smellerbee," Jet grinned, "Don't worry about it. You'll find out soon enough." With that, he took off, heading up into the trees, leaving Smellerbee behind on the ground, damning his ability to charm his way out of anything.

**:–:–:–:**

"I mean it, something's off," Smellerbee said to Longshot, following him around one of the larger storehouses. "Haven't you noticed?" Longshot didn't even look at her. Instead, he examined one of the barrels, nodded to himself, then proceeded to turn it on its side and roll it away. He stood it up just outside the door then went back inside and checked several of the surrounding barrels. He looked up at Smellerbee.

"Fine," she sighed, and she helped him get the rest of the barrels outside. They lowered them all to the ground on a platform on a series of pulleys and as they loaded them onto a large cart, Smellerbee asked, "What's all of this for?" She could tell from the odor that it was blasting jelly. Longshot shrugged his shoulders, a dark expression on his face. "Come on," Smellerbee said, though she had an unpleasant, nagging feeling she tried to push away. "How bad could it be?" Longshot shrugged again – he didn't know, but he had a bad feeling about it. " . . . Longshot?" He looked at her once more. "No, he wouldn't tell me. He said he'd tell us tonight." Longshot returned his attention to the barrels. "I guess we'll find out what all of this is for then, won't we?" He nodded. Smellerbee sighed in resignation and continued helping Longshot in silence.

**:–:–:–:**

In the usual flurry of activity that followed dinner, Longshot found Smellerbee practicing with her slingshot. It was a habit of hers to go off and practice when she needed time to think, and it never seemed to matter how secluded a spot she chose, Longshot always managed to find her when he wanted to.

He indicated for her to follow him – it was clearly important.

"What is it?" she asked as he led her back through the center of their complex, past Jet's hut. Longshot nodded slightly forward. They ended up at a tiny and slightly dilapidated hut on the very edge of their web and when Smellerbee ducked inside she found Jet, Pipsqueak, and Sneers already there. Jet was in the corner farthest from the door, cloaked in shadow, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Pipsqueak and Sneers were sitting on crates by the door, and Longshot sat opposite them. Smellerbee elected to stay standing, leaning on a crate. The mood was overwhelmingly serious.

"Okay, we're all here," Jet said, and it immediately struck Smellerbee as strange that The Duke wasn't included this time. "You all already know that the Fire Nation has been taking more and more of the villages in and around the forest," he said quietly. _Too well_, Smellerbee thought. "And you all know that if we don't stop them, it'll only be a matter of time before they find us – and destroy us." Smellerbee felt a chill creep up her neck. This hideout was, in her mind, the only place safe from the Fire Nation. "We can't let that happen – at any cost. We're one of the only groups still fighting them. We're the only ones protecting this place. The Earth Kingdom army is far away – they've abandoned their people." There was undeniable anger and power in Jet's voice. "We're the only reason the Fire Nation hasn't taken this entire region. Our legends give the rest of the Earth Kingdom hope. If we stop fighting, soon enough Ba Sing Se will be the only place in the Earth Kingdom still free from the Fire Nation. And it'll only be a matter of time before Ba Sing Se falls, too." Smellerbee almost wanted to disagree, but found that she couldn't somehow; what he said made sense. They were the only resistance. The rebellion would live or die with them. "Our only chance to get the Fire Nation out permanently is now that we have Aang and Katara with us." _So he does need them for something_, Smellerbee thought. "If they fill the reservoir, all we need to do is blow up the dam, and the Fire Nation will be gone." Everyone looked at each other as Jet observed them. Everyone thought, but would not say, _the village will be gone, too_. Smellerbee's eyes met Longshot's. He looked grave. _This is what I was afraid of_, he seemed to be thinking. Smellerbee thought of all the Fire Nation did when they took new towns. They destroyed families, destroyed lives, slowly but surely destroyed the world. She thought of her mother's chosen insanity and her sister's quiet acceptance of defeat. Anything, she decided, was better than being trapped like this. "Any questions?"

Jet's voice pulled Smellerbee back to the present.

Longshot glanced at Jet and Jet answered, "No, we can't trust the Avatar and his friends with this. Aang's too young. He hasn't seen enough of the war yet. He won't get it. And Sokka's against everything I do – he can't know, either." Longshot looked at Jet once more. "She wouldn't understand," Jet said darkly, and Smellerbee couldn't tell if the weight behind his words came from his frustration with _her_ for not understanding, or anger at _it_ for being so beyond understanding. It was probably both.

Smellerbee felt a weight in her chest as she realized that she'd have to accept it – he cared about this girl. It didn't matter why or how, but he did. Somehow she'd captured Jet's attention in a way that Smellerbee could not. Since Smellerbee couldn't bring herself to hate Jet, she settled for hating Katara. And Sokka. And even the Avatar in a way – if he had insisted that they move on . . . _Stop being an idiot_, she told herself. _You're smarter, more mature, a better fighter – that's what matters in the end. Pretty blue eyes can get you attention but never save your neck – or help you save anyone else's. Let Jet be stupid. As soon as they leave, he'll forget all about her_.

"We'll be heading out before dawn tomorrow," Jet said, stepping into the center of the room. "Just go get some sleep – you'll need it. We're in for a long day. I'll get you all up when the time comes." He paused for a moment, looking around at all of them, and added, "Don't tell anyone about this." He exited swiftly, leaving the rest of them to pause a moment, realizing how much everything was about to change. Tension and uncertainty hung in the air, threatening to choke them all.

Sneers was the first to go, then Pipsqueak. Neither of them spoke a word.

Smellerbee and Longshot stayed still and silent for a moment. Smellerbee was staring blankly at the wall, her mind spinning. Her moment of darkness had passed and she was thinking about the implications of what she'd wordlessly agreed to do.

"We're going to take out the entire village," she said softly. They'd done a lot of things, but they'd never deliberately put Earth Kingdom civilians in harm's way. Smellerbee had seen the danger in Jet, but she thought he was a danger to himself more than anything else. "Longshot, we're going to take out the entire village," she repeated, looking at him. He determinedly stared at the floor. "Longshot–" his head snapped up and he glared at her. The anger in his eyes nearly overwhelmed her. "What–?" He stood and pushed past her, out the door. She stared after him. She could tell that his anger was not really with her – at least, not entirely. But for the first time, Smellerbee felt that Longshot was deliberately keeping something hidden. There was plenty that she didn't know about him – she was used to that. But this time, there was something he didn't _want _her to know.

Smellerbee sat down on a crate, angry and confused. She didn't want to have to think about any of this anymore. There was just too much for her to handle. She stood suddenly and walked out, counting her steps as she went, wandering across bridges and platforms aimlessly until she counted a hundred steps, giving Longshot time to pretend to be asleep by the time she got back. She'd know he was pretending, he'd know she knew, but they'd both pretend to know nothing.


	13. Blast

Chapter 13: Blast

When Smellerbee woke up, Jet was beside her, shaking her slightly by the shoulder.

"It's time to go," he whispered, somehow managing to keep the ever-present twig in his mouth from falling.

Smellerbee sprang up and quickly pulled on her boots and headband and fastened her dagger belt around her waist. She was out on the platform by Jet's hut within a minute. Jet and Longshot were already there and Sneers and Pipsqueak were emerging from their hut to join the group.

"Can't hide anything from that kid," Smellerbee heard Jet say softly, a vague smile on his face. He was looking past Smellerbee, to where The Duke was approaching, fully dressed and wearing his helmet. Jet didn't look annoyed, but he did put his hand on The Duke's shoulder and say, "Look, The Duke, I don't know if –"

"I'm coming with you guys," The Duke said. Smellerbee couldn't help but grin. The Duke was the only person ever to directly defy Jet – it just never occurred to anyone else to do so. Jet looked appraisingly at The Duke for a moment and before saying, "Okay."

Once Sneers and Pipsqueak caught up to them, Jet said quietly, "Let's go."

They all descended on ropes swiftly and silently. The cart Smellerbee and Longshot had loaded just hours before was waiting for them on the ground, and together they all pushed it across the forest floor, Jet leading the way. Without speaking a word, they reached the cliffs overlooking the dam.

Jet looked out at the landscape below them. The sun was soon to rise, and Smellerbee realized that it would be the last dawn this village would see. Jet turned to address all of them.

"Now listen, you are not to blow the dam until I give the signal." Smellerbee caught the sound of something in the bushes behind them. "If the reservoir isn't full, the Fire Nation troops could survive."

The Duke, who had been perched on the wagon, leapt down and asked, "But what about the people in the town? Won't they get wiped out, too?" Everyone else stayed tense and silent. Only The Duke could get away with this.

Smellerbee heard the rustling in the bushes again. She turned and saw – were her eyes playing tricks on her? – Sokka. She moved quietly around and behind him, silently catching Pipsqueak's attention and pointing out the intruder.

"Look, Duke," Jet was saying. "That's the price of ridding this area of the Fire Nation." He stood and addressed Longshot. "Now, don't blow the dam until I give the signal, got it?"

Simultaneously, Smellerbee and Pipsqueak moved forward to trap Sokka. Pipsqueak pulled him up by the hair while Smellerbee unsheathed her brother's dagger and held it at the now-captive's throat. Her face just inches from Sokka's she snarled, "Where do you think you're going, ponytail?"

Jet's eyes went wide and angry for a split second before he said calmly, "Everyone move out. I'll handle this."

Pipsqueak and Smellerbee pulled Sokka fully out of the bushes now and threw him at Jet's defiant feet.

"Sokka," he said. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

"I heard your plan to destroy the Earth Kingdom town," Sokka said, standing slowly.

"Our plan is to rid the valley of the Fire Nation," Jet corrected.

"There are people living there, Jet," Sokka implored. "Mothers and fathers and children." _All of them already destroyed_, Smellerbee thought harshly, pushing away the doubt that lingered in the back of her mind.

"We can't win without making some sacrifices," Jet said, the energy in his voice rising.

"You lied to Aang and Katara about the forest fire!" Sokka accused.

"Because they don't understand the demands of war," Jet said, smoothly spinning a web, removing the twig from his mouth. "Not like you and I do." It was only from the outside that Smellerbee could see the mastery of Jet's craft. Sokka had to choose between being against Jet – and therefore a naïve child, dumb to the demands of reality – or sanding by Jet and his plan.

"I do understand," Sokka said, gaining power and confidence as he spoke, "I understand that there's nothing that you won't do to get what you want.

"I was hoping you'd have an open mind," Jet said in a dangerously calm voice. "But I can see you've made your choice." He glanced at Smellerbee and Pipsqueak, cuing them to come forward and seize him. Sokka raised a hand as if to fight, but Jet stopped him, trapping Sokka's hand with his swords. "I can't let you warn Katara and Aang," he said. Then he said to Pipsqueak and Smellerbee, "Take him for a walk – a long walk."

"You can't do this!" Sokka shouted as he struggled against his captors.

"Cheer up, Sokka. We're going to win a great victory against the Fire Nation today."

As she helped push Sokka along the path away from the dam and the hideout, Smellerbee felt a chill creep up her spine. She knew that Jet had found a way to justify letting the Earth Kingdom villagers be caught in the crossfire, but now he didn't even seem to notice he was doing so.

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee was technically leading the way down the path, pushing Sokka in front of her.

"Come on, move along," she said. He'd started to slow down again.

"How can you stand by and do nothing while Jet wipes out a whole town?" Sokka demanded.

"Hey listen, Sokka," Pipsqueak said forcefully, saving Smellerbee from answering the question. "Jet's a great leader. We follow what he says, and things always turn out okay."

"If that's how Jet leads, then he's got a lot to learn."

"Hey!" Smellerbee reached desperately out to grab Sokka as he took off through the trees suddenly and without warning.

Pipsqueak and Smellerbee dashed after him, Smellerbee gaining ground with each second until –

She was yanked violently upwards from the forest floor, crushed into a tiny sphere – a Fire Nation trap.

"While you two are up there, you might want to practice your knot-work," Sokka taunted from below before walking away.

"Hey, Smellerbee, are you going eat your leechee nuts?" Pipsqueak asked her. She threw one at him angrily, hitting him square in the face. They'd been tricked by a complete idiot. They'd been caught by traps they knew better than to stumble into. Sokka got away because his damn hands weren't tied properly – she'd let Pipsqueak do it, and this was where it got them. She'd gotten lazy – she'd let go of him.

_Jet's going to hate me_.

They sat there for a half an hour, Smellerbee seething the whole time. She wanted to tear apart the metal bars. She wanted to get her hands on Sokka, teach him a lesson . . . She also wanted to hit Pipsqueak, who was now humming quietly to himself.

"Will you _shut up_?" she snapped.

"Sorry, Smellerbee," he said softly, silencing immediately.

Her whole body ached from being cramped in such a small space. She felt like she could burst with anger. She couldn't stand the thought of the shame that would come when Jet found out what they'd allowed to happen. And now she hated Pipsqueak for being so damn quiet. She was certain that she'd never been so annoyed and miserable in her life.

Suddenly, she was torn from her self-pity by the sound of an explosion.

"The dam," she said quietly. "They blew up the dam."

**:–:–:–:**

An hour later, they were still there. Pipsqueak had fallen asleep somehow, leaving Smellerbee feeling lonely and depressed, though she couldn't say why.

She managed to get her cage to swing back and forth slightly, which was marginally better than being completely still, though it brought her no closer to escaping. She was certain that if she had even just a little room to move she might find a way to get out of the damn thing, but she was reluctant to try too hard – they were at least forty feet in the air, and a fall would result in massive injuries at best and at worst . . . well, now she was starting to understand why some people were afraid of heights.

She couldn't decide if it was good or bad that they were off of the main path through the forest. This meant that they'd be less likely to be discovered by people they didn't want to find them, but also less likely to be found by Freedom Fighters.

_Have they even noticed that we're gone yet?_ Smellerbee wondered. _They've got to . . . if Sokka turned up and tried to stop them, they'd have to know that something happened to us . . ._ She felt almost ill with embarrassment at the thought of Jet coming to rescue her like the helpless, pathetic loser she was. He'd never trust her with anything important again . . .

She leaned her head against the metal bars, hating herself. She wanted to cry with anger – almost. Her eyes burned, but tears never truly formed or fell.

"You've really screwed up now, Smellerbee," she said quietly to herself.

"Hey!" a high, familiar voice called out below. Smellerbee tried to see who it was but found herself unable to make the angle.

"Whasgoinon?" Pipsqueak mumbled, waking up.

"The Duke?" she shouted back.

"Yeah! Hey Sneers, Longshot, over here!"

Now Smellerbee could see the child scampering across the ground below, Longshot and Sneers following behind him.

"What happened to you guys?" The Duke asked as Sneers (at Longshot's direction) started climbing up the tree Pipsqueak hung from and Longshot started up to get Smellerbee.

"Sokka got away," Pipsqueak said, slightly ashamed. "We went to chase him and got stuck here . . ."

Smellerbee was relieved, at least, that Jet wasn't the one to discover her here. She didn't want her indignity to mar Jet's view of her.

"How'd the plan go?" she asked.

"It didn't really go like Jet wanted it to," The Duke said. "Sokka told everyone in the village what was going on and everyone left, including the soldiers." He only really sounded disappointed about the soldiers.

"How'd Jet take that?" Pipsqueak asked.

"Well . . . we found him frozen to a tree and he told us Katara did it when she found out what his plan was . . . and then he told us about Sokka . . . he wasn't too happy . . . he was acting sort of funny and then he went off into the woods and hasn't come back yet."

Smellerbee saw movement to her side and turned to try and look at Longshot as he slowly lowered her cage to the forest floor. Pipsqueak, too, was soon descending beside her. When Sneers and Longshot were both on the ground again, they released Pipsqueak and then Smellerbee from their minute prisons.

"Thanks, guys," Smellerbee said miserably, stretching out, feeling each muscle ache freshly.

"We really owe you one, The Duke," Pipsqueak said, smiling down at the child. "Come on," Pipqueak said, bending down so The Duke could clamber up and sit on his shoulders. Smellerbee felt the oppressive presence of guilt for how she'd felt about Pipsqueak and how she'd shouted at him. _He is a better person than you could ever hope to be_, she thought shamefully. She kept a few paces behind him and Sneers. Longshot fell into step beside her.

"Do you think Jet's okay?" she asked. Longshot shrugged, disinterested. "Hey, are _you_ okay?" He shrugged again. "Don't give me that," she said, slightly annoyed. "Come on, what's the matter?" Longshot shook his head. "Fine," Smellerbee said, now thoroughly irritated. "Whatever." She started to walk quicker, to get away from Longshot. "Agh!" Her leg had collapsed underneath her, a stabbing pain in her knee. Sitting cramped and immobile for so long had taken its toll.

"Smellerbee, are you okay?" Sneers asked. All of them had turned to look at her, splayed clumsily across the ground.

"It's just my leg," she said, getting up and wincing. "I'll be fine." She took a few steps and couldn't help but limp a little.

Pipsqueak glanced up at The Duke, who nodded. "Do you want me to carry you back?" Pipsqueak asked Smellerbee.

"No, I'll be fine," Smellerbee said again. She had no desire to be helped by anyone. As if being trapped and then rescued was not bad enough, she wanted to at least get back to the hideout with a little bit of her ego intact. She kept walking. Her leg was furiously reprimanding her with each step, pain searing across her knee to accent the dull aches she still felt all over, reminding her that the last thing she should be doing was putting weight on it. But her pride won out on this one.

**:–:–:–:**

When they got back to camp, it felt different – confused and tense. Their missions didn't always go exactly as planned, but this was something new for all of them.

And Jet still hadn't returned.

It was about lunchtime, but Smellerbee didn't feel like eating. She was tired and still inexplicably depressed. And there was still something strange about Longshot. What the hell was going on? _The Avatar's supposed to bring balance, not screw everything up_, Smellerbee thought. _Well, great job . . . everything's completely messed up now. Are you happy, Avatar? Are you, Sokka? What about you, Katara? Three days here and you've ruined everything._

A few other Freedom Fighters had approached her and Pipsqueak, asking where they'd been and what happened. Pipsqueak obliged, but Smellerbee pushed them away with an emphatic, "I don't want to talk about it! Ask him!" as she went to her treehouse and threw herself down on her mat. She slept for a long time, determined to keep away for as long as possible the change she knew deep down was coming.

**:–:–:–:**

_Author's Note: Hey! If any of you have followed my other fics before, you'll know I'm the worst at timely posting, but I've been really working on that, especially for the past few chapters. But from here on out, I have nothing to work with but my own imagination until the Freedom Fighters run into Zuko and the Gaang in Ba Sing Se. I've got some ideas (and the next chapter is even finished, though it's still stuck in editing, and I've made some headway on the chapter after that), but there's a lot of time for me to fill until they get to Ba Sing Se and I have to make it meaningful, so if I'm a little slow with posting, please bear with me! You guys are the best, and I hope you all like the story so far. Let me know what you think; please review!_


	14. Crumble

Chapter 14: Crumble

Smellerbee woke up in the dead of night and found herself suddenly restless. She turned over and over in her bed for a while before she decided it was useless. She wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon. She got up (still fully dressed and armed – she hadn't even bothered to take off her armor she had been so exhausted before) and slipped out of the hut. She looked around. Everywhere was dark and silent. She walked around the complex a little bit but didn't feel any more free than she had lying still, so she grabbed a rope and dropped down to the forest floor. She followed a well-worn animal path through the trees, scooping up a pile of acorns and pulling out her slingshot as she went.

"Oh, hi, Jet," she said quietly to herself, shooting an acorn at the knothole of a nearby tree. "I'm sorry my stupidity got your plan ruined. And I'm sorry that I can't be as pretty as your precious Katara." Animals scampered away through the bushes unseen as Smellerbee approached them. "I'm sorry that I can't figure out what's wrong with Longshot. And I'm sorry that everything's falling apart right now." She was now firing acorns off randomly and angrily, getting strange satisfaction out of the violent snapping sound that echoed when they made contact with tree trunks. "But, really," she continued. "It's not my fault – it's yours. You decided to let the Avatar and his friends stay. _You_ wanted their help. You decided to kill the whole town. You could have just let things stay the way they've always been. But no, you had to come up with your _brilliant_ plan and tear everything apart – and then disappear on the Freedom Fighters right when we need you the most!"

She shot her final acorn and stopped walking. She didn't want to go any farther. She wanted to curl up where she was and fall asleep to wake up back in the hut she shared with Longshot in a world where the Avatar had never visited them.

She sighed heavily. All of this wishing was wearing her down.

She turned and started heading slowly and resolutely back to the hideout. She hadn't been walking for more than five minutes when she heard something large moving ahead of her. Instantly she pulled out her dagger, put away her slingshot, and ducked behind a nearby tree. Whatever this thing was, it was moving straight towards her. There was a great rustling, as though it was pushing its way through a thick tangle of bushes, and then she heard the sounds of someone stumbling out onto the path and walking – she knew those footsteps.

"Jet?" she asked, staying behind the tree, just to be sure.

"Who's there?" Jet asked, though his voice was nearly unrecognizable due to the presence of something Smellerbee had never heard from him before – fear.

"It's me," she said, stepping out onto the path in front of him, sheathing her dagger. "It's Smellerbee."

"Oh . . . Smellerbee . . ." he said slowly, bringing his swords down, out of a fighting stance, putting them away awkwardly.

He looked terrible. His clothes were torn in new places, his hair matted with twigs and leaves, his eyes bloodshot and marked with dark circles that looked permanently etched underneath. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, which, Smellerbee realized, he might not have. He certainly hadn't been to the hideout since the previous morning.

"Jet, are you okay?" Smellerbee asked, stepping closer to him.

"I'm fine, Smellerbee," he said distractedly. "Just thinking . . ."

"Thinking what?"

"Smellerbee," he looked very distressed now, almost fidgety – he was not the Jet she was used to. She hated to see the toll the past few days had taken on him. He took hold of her shoulders, looked intently into her eyes, nearly staring through her, and asked, "What if what we're doing is wrong?"

Smellerbee stared at him. He was so lost and desperate, but so was she – she couldn't give him an answer she was still seeking herself.

"Come on, Jet," she said, putting an arm around his waist, guiding him as he walked beside her. "Let's go home."

"Yeah," he said distantly. "Home."

"Come on," she said again, keeping him moving forward along the path until they reached one of the ascent ropes. She looked at him, at his tired eyes, and decided that he was not strong enough to do this himself. "Hang on to me," she said quietly. It felt so strange to treat Jet like a frightened child, but it was stranger still to see him follow her orders. Jet stood in front of her and put his arms around her neck. She wrapped the rope around one of her arms and put her other arm around Jet's middle, holding him close and tight. She gripped the rope, braced herself as best as she could, and tugged. She felt the time pass slowly as they rose through the air to the platform. When they reached the top she let go and they both landed gracelessly on the platform, though Smellerbee managed to catch both of them before they lost their footing.

"Let's go," she said softly, pulling one of Jet's arms across her shoulders and started walking towards his hut. "Almost there." She pushed aside the cloth door and walked Jet over to his bed. "Get some sleep," she told him gently. "You need it."

Jet swayed slightly on the spot as Smellerbee let go of him.

"Thank you, Smellerbee," he said after a brief silence, hugging her. Smellerbee couldn't react for a moment. She'd never known Jet to show this type of affection.

"No problem . . . If you need anything, I'll be right here."

"I'm so glad you're a Freedom Fighter," he said, holding her at arm's length and looking at her in a way he never had before.

"Me, too."

Jet nodded, then sunk into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Smellerbee sat outside his hut, leaning on the wall, staring up into the sky for hours until she finally fell asleep.


	15. Trust

Chapter 15: Trust

"Hey, Smellerbee."

"No," she mumbled, rolling over, away from the speaker, pulling a blanket over her head.

"But, Smellerbee –"

She opened her eyes to the bight noon light. When did she acquire a blanket?

She rolled over again to find The Duke standing before her, holding a tray of food.

"Longshot wanted me to bring you this," he said, holding the tray out to her. There was rice, some sort of stew, and a few fresh pieces of fruit.

"Thanks," she yawned, sitting up and taking the tray from him.

"Why are you out here?" The Duke asked.

Smellerbee, who had started hungrily on the stew, jumped up as she remembered.

"Jet came back," she said. "I wanted to stay out here in case he needed anything . . . he was pretty out of it." She went to the doorframe and slowly pulled back the curtain. Jet was still there, sound asleep. The sound of his steady, rhythmic breathing filled the room.

"Should we get him something to eat, too?" The Duke asked, peering inside the hut.

"No," Smellerbee said, dropping the curtain and moving away. "We should let him sleep for as long as he needs to." She sat against the wall, The Duke beside her.

"How long will that be?"

"I don't know."

"So what now?" The child looked up at her. He needed something to do.

"You should go around and tell everyone that Jet's back, so they can stop worrying," Smellerbee said. "But tell them that he's sleeping now and everyone needs to leave him alone for a while."

"What will you do?"

"I'll wait here," she said. "So when he wakes up he'll have someone to let him know what's going on."

"Okay," The Duke said. Smellerbee watched him as he walked off, the usual excitement that marked his movements noticeably absent. _He's too young for this_, she thought sadly.

Smellerbee finished her stew and thought about what would happen next. When would Jet wake up? Would he be back to his old self? It seemed naïve to the point of stupidity to think so, but she couldn't help but cling to the hope. She thought of the village. Would they all move away, become refugees? Would they stay and rebuild? And she couldn't help but wonder, _are the cowards the ones who stay or the ones who go?_

At that point, Longshot arrived and interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey," she said, smiling. He looked a little nervous. She wanted him to know that their – well, it wasn't quite a fight, but whatever had come between them the night before was done with. She was just glad to see him. "Come on," she said, patting the floor beside her and offering Longshot the pear from her tray; she knew pears were his favorite. Longshot nodded, sitting beside her, taking the pear. He glanced at her and then at Jet's door. "I woke up last night really late," she explained "I was wandering around and I ran into Jet – he didn't look good. I brought him back and he's been sleeping ever since." Longshot nodded but had another question on his face. "I stayed out here because I thought he should have someone nearby – he was in really bad shape . . . It was like a bad dream, seeing him like that." She felt better telling Longshot about this, but she was still a little worried about him. "How are you?" she asked. He didn't look at her for a moment. He shook his head slightly. Smellerbee sighed. She could feel sadness radiating from him. There was too much of that hanging in the shadows already. When Longshot finally looked at her, his eyes fixed on hers for just a moment. _I'm sorry_.

"It's okay," Smellerbee said. "Don't worry." Longshot nodded solemnly.

They sat next to each other, comfortable with the silence.

This was what Smellerbee liked about Longshot, she realized just then. She grew up in a world of pointless small talk and saying anything but what you actually mean. But with Longshot, there was no need for any of it. If he wanted information, he'd ask in his own way. If he had something to say, he made sure he was understood. And if he didn't want to tell you something, there was no carefully evading the issue. He simply wouldn't let you in. He was clear. He was honest.

She wanted to say as much to Longshot, but she was never great with words. She was afraid her meaning would get lost and tangled between them.

At long last, she said simply, "I trust you, Longshot."

He looked at her and for the briefest moment he smiled – just slightly, but it was there.

**:–:–:–:**

All day, people would walk across platforms and bridges past Jet's hut, move slowly, stare too long, but never approach. Smellerbee and Longshot's presence was enough to stop anyone from daring to intrude on Jet's sleep.

They passed the time in their own ways: Smellerbee polished and re-polished her dagger and practiced with her slingshot while Longshot carefully carved and prepared new arrows. Sometimes Smellerbee would talk a little, but the fact was they had little they needed to say to each other.

Around dinnertime, The Duke reappeared. "Hi, guys," he said. "Is Jet up yet?"

"No, sorry," Smellerbee said. "Still sleeping."

"Oh," The Duke said, his face falling. "I just came by because I thought you guys might want dinner . . . I thought maybe if Jet was up I'd bring him something, too . . ."

"When he wakes up you'll be the first to know," Smellerbee said. "You should sit and eat with us. We could use your company."

"Okay," The Duke said, and he walked off, leaving behind a sad reminder of what they were waiting for.

"He's really torn up about this, isn't he?" Smellerbee asked, turning to Longshot, who nodded before glancing from The Duke to Jet's door. _The Duke's really attached to him_.

"I figured," Smellerbee said with an empty half-laugh. _Aren't we all?_ she thought. "How long do you think before he wakes up?" she asked – she was starting to get nervous. He'd been sleeping for more than half a day. Longshot shrugged. _It could be a long time_. Smellerbee sighed. She couldn't wait. She wanted to know _now_ if Jet was going to be okay – and what 'okay' would look like. She paced up and down the platform.

Now it was Longshot's turn to sigh, though he did so silently. He stood and approached Smellerbee, putting a hand on her shoulder so she turned to face him. He looked at her in a firm but reassuring way: _Stop worrying. It won't do you any good_.

Smellerbee shook her head and smiled slightly. "How do you always know?" she asked, pleasantly bemused.

Longshot shrugged and the shadow of a proud – maybe even cocky? – smile flitted across his face. He patted her on the back and returned to carving his arrows. Smellerbee watched him for a moment. It was hard not to admire him at least a little bit. She went back to practicing with her slingshot and noticed that she did feel somehow calmer now.

The Duke returned a few minutes later with food for three and they ate in silence. Even when they'd finished, The Duke didn't leave. He sat with his back to the wall between Longshot and Smellerbee, his hands hugging his knees to his chest, staring into space. _Poor kid_, Smellerbee thought. _He looks up to Jet more than any of us. This is probably hardest on him_.

The Duke stayed with them for a long time, sometimes talking, sometimes moving around restlessly, but never leaving the platform. Eventually, hours after darkness had fallen, he fell asleep curled under the blanket that Smellerbee had woken up beneath.

"Should we put him in his bed?" Smellerbee asked Longshot quietly. He nodded and stood. He looked at The Duke for a moment, deciding the best way to go about moving him. Longshot pulled back the blanket and gently lifted the child without waking him and carried him carefully across a bridge towards his hut. Watching them, Smellerbee felt like she was learning over again what it means to be a family.

When Longshot returned, he sat beside Smellerbee, hanging a lantern on a hook in the wall above them, and picked up the arrow he had been working on. Smellerbee, bored, reached for one of the sticks he had collected and said, "Let me try." She used Chihiro's dagger at first, but it was too large for such delicate work. Longshot produced a second small knife from his pocket and handed it to her. "Thanks," she said, wondering if he'd been planning for this.

Longshot nodded towards the stick in her hand and observed as she began carving again. After a few moments he stopped her and put his hands over hers, showing her how to grip the knife and the arrow, demonstrating the proper carving technique. He guided her in several graceful strokes of the knife, paused a moment, then let go of her hands. _Your turn_.

Smellerbee slowly carved a thin sliver of wood off the arrow and looked to Longshot for approval. He nodded. Smellerbee suppressed a small, proud smile and continued to whittle away at her masterpiece. Well, it wasn't quite a masterpiece – she was not nearly as adept at carving as Longshot and her arrow was clumsy at best in comparison to his, but still she was glad to be learning something useful. She wondered if maybe he'd teach her to shoot next, though the idea intimidated her; she was known here as a skilled fighter and she didn't like the idea of the others seeing her struggle with something new.

As she worked she continually stole glances at Longshot's work-in-progress or his small but growing pile of finished arrows for reference. He was also much faster than she was, but she didn't mind. She liked just sitting next to him. He was becoming something she'd never quite had before – a best friend.

She'd always been close to her brother, but the age difference made it hard for them to be friends in the traditional sense – they were not on equal footing. Among the boys in the village, her status as a girl and a rich kid set her apart. They'd tolerate her presence sometimes, but they were not truly friends. The line between rich and poor was even starker between herself and the servants' children – they'd play and have fun, but she always felt separated from them. Even as a child, she knew it had something to do with the fact that she slept between silk sheets and they slept on straw mattresses.

But here, she was a Freedom Fighter, and that was all that mattered.

When Smellerbee finished her arrow, she held it up for Longshot to look at. He took it in his hands and examined it thoroughly, turning it and weighing it in his hand. He handed it back with a nod of approval. Then he handed her a new stick.

"What?" Smellerbee exclaimed in playful outrage. "I just finished that one!"

A tiny smile flashed momentarily across Longshot's face. From him, she knew this was like a full laugh from anyone else. She shook her head and started working on it. She couldn't help but smile, and could somehow tell that Longshot felt the same.

She finished a grand total of three more arrows before she folded up the knife and decided that she was done for the night. She stretched her red and aching fingers, her arms, shoulders, and back and leaned against the hut once more. Her eyes hurt from exhaustion. She meant just to rest her eyes for a minute, but it didn't take long for dreams to start sneaking into her thoughts, and moments later she was fast asleep.

**:–:–:–:**

At one point, for reasons unknown, Smellerbee woke up just slightly and realized that she and Longshot were close beside each other, their legs covered by the blanket. Her head was nestled comfortably on his shoulder and his head was atop hers. She wasn't quite sure if it was intentional by either of them, but either way she didn't want to move. She could feel his steady breathing as he slept.

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee felt slight pressure on her shoulder and opened her eyes to see Longshot, now on one knee facing her, his eyes full of energy. Something was happening. Smellerbee leapt to her feet and looked around. Longshot, standing, nodded towards Jet's door. _Listen_.

She heard it – Jet was clearly moving around in his bed, muttering incoherently. Smellerbee's eyes widened. Did this mean that he was about to wake up?

She looked at Longshot, wondering if they should go inside. Longshot shook his head. They had to wait and see if Jet would wake up on his own. Smellerbee knew that, but she didn't like it. They stood there, doing nothing. Smellerbee could occasionally catch singular words – "No . . . gone . . . Sorry . . . I didn't . . . I'm sorry . . ." He sounded as desperate and alone as he had when Smellerbee had found him the night before.

"Longshot . . ." she said quietly. She wanted to wake Jet up, to reassure him, but Longshot shook his head again. When Jet was ready to wake up again, he would do so without help from them. All the same, Smellerbee stood ready to run into the room at any moment, waiting until Jet's wild mumbling faded into the sounds of deep sleep again.

"I want him to wake up already," she said, turning back to Longshot. "I just want to know how he is." She rubbed her eyes; she was still exhausted. But now that she was up, she didn't want to go back to sleep. She moved to the edge of the platform and leaned on the railing.

Longshot stood still for a moment then promptly left the platform, returning a few moments later with Smellerbee's pillow and blanket. He handed them to her. _You need sleep_. To make a point of it, Longshot had brought his own pillow. He sat down and looked expectantly at Smellerbee. She was torn between her need for sleep and her desire to stay up and wait for Jet. She sighed and put her pillow down so her head would be right beside Jet's door. She stretched out perpendicular to the treehouse wall while Longshot put his pillow a short distance from hers, lying alongside the wall. Smellerbee barely had time to pull together her final thoughts of the night before she fell asleep.


	16. Awake

Chapter 16: Awake

Smellerbee refused to actually get up or do anything, even just to put her mind to work. Instead, she stared at the canopy above her, the leaves shifting in the breeze, the midmorning sun peering at her through the tangle of branches. She didn't think of anything at all, only watched, let the world move around her while she quietly protested. She would not help the world move faster, and this was the only way she had to make it slow down at all.

**:–:–:–:**

Later (how much later, she wasn't sure), Smellerbee finally sat up. Longshot was still asleep, lying on his back, an arm over his eyes to keep the sun away. Even just the sounds of the day – the birds, the rustling leaves, the others walking and talking a ways away – overpowered the sound of his breathing. She watched him for a moment, saw his chest rising and falling, and released an irrational sigh of relief. It wasn't that she thought he might be dead; it was that she needed confirmation that he was still with her. She turned her head to listen to the sounds in Jet's room. She heard him roll over and inhale deeply. She shook her head. She was so used to losing people by now, she'd come to expect it.

**:–:–:–:**

Slowly but surely, Longshot woke up. He shifted around a lot, opened his eyes, and finally sat up and looked at Smellerbee.

"I've been up for a while," she said. Longshot looked past her to Jet's wall. "Still asleep." Longshot nodded, yawned silently, and stretched. He reached immediately for his hat and put it on his head. Smellerbee couldn't help but chuckle a little. "What is it with you and that hat?" she asked. Longshot looked slightly sheepish but was almost smiling. He shrugged his shoulders and looked at Smellerbee's blue headband, which she almost never took off. "That's completely different," Smellerbee retorted, running her fingers over the soft fabric.

"Hey, Longshot, Smellerbee." It was Pipsqueak, waving at them from a platform across the way, heading over. "How are you guys? How's Jet?"

"We've been here a while," Smellerbee said, stretching her back, which ached dully from sitting still so long and sleeping on the hard platform. "Jet's still asleep. Hasn't woken up for . . ." she looked to Longshot for confirmation. "More than a full day now?" Longshot nodded.

"I heard he was sleeping. I didn't want to bother him," Pipsqueak said, looking ashamed for not coming to visit sooner. "I was helping with meals and stuff . . ."

"That's good," Smellerbee said. "We've been sort of useless – we've barely moved from here."

"Everyone else is getting sort of . . . I don't know . . . they want Jet back," Pipsqueak said.

"We all do," Smellerbee said, and she saw Longshot nodding, too.

**:–:–:–:**

Predictably, this day passed much like the previous one, with Pipsqueak and The Duke coming by to bring them food, sometimes staying to talk or just sit for a while. The only real difference was now the other kids would gather on platforms with a view of Jet's treehouse and look and whisper. It annoyed Smellerbee, though she wasn't quite sure why. As the day wore on, Smellerbee grew more and more irritated and restless. She wanted Jet to wake up already and set everything right again, because she somehow felt that she was supposed to be in charge and was failing.

**:–:–:–:**

It was quiet, dark, and a little cold. Everyone was asleep except for Longshot and Smellerbee. And, perhaps, one other.

Smellerbee grabbed Longshot's arm to make him listen. Jet was audibly moving around in his bed. Smellerbee stood up just as the movement stopped –

Seconds later, Jet was standing in the doorframe.

"Hey, guys."

"Jet! How – how are you?" Smellerbee asked, fighting the urge to hug him. Longshot stood up behind her.

"My head hurts," he said. "What's going on?"

"You've been asleep for almost two days."

"What?"

"After the dam burst you went off into the woods," Smellerbee said, hoping he'd remember, "You were gone for a while. When I found you, I told you that you needed sleep." She saw recognition flicker across his face, and finally an expression that was mixed anger and pain settled in his eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "I remember."

He turned back and went inside his treehouse. Smellerbee moved to follow him but Longshot grabbed her arm. _Don't_. She stared at him incredulously for a moment, then shook him off angrily. If he wanted to let Jet retreat into himself, that was fine. But she wouldn't stand by and watch it happen.

Longshot followed her through the door.

"Jet, what's going on with you?" Smellerbee asked. "Why did you go off like that?"

Jet rounded on her. "I don't know, Smellerbee!"

"Well, what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know!"

"Everyone's been waiting for you!"

"So?"

"You're our leader!"

"Maybe I don't . . ."

"Maybe you don't _what_?"

"Maybe I don't want to be your leader anymore!"

"No." Smellerbee was glaring at Jet, him back at her. "You don't get to do that, Jet. You don't get to just walk away from us."

"Smellerbee, I don't know what –"

"Figure it out, then!" Smellerbee shouted back. "But you don't get to leave us behind. You can't walk out on us when we need you. You're a Freedom Fighter!"

For a second, Jet looked ready to hit Smellerbee. She thought he might, too – they stood there, staring at each other, each breathing heavily, each already wounded by the other.

Jet collapsed onto his bed, his head hanging in his hands.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Smellerbee," he admitted quietly. "Everything's changed."

Smellerbee watched him, unsure if she should yell at him or put her arms around him.

"You've got us," she said finally, and Longshot put his hand on her shoulder to show that he was in, too.

Jet looked up at the both of them.

"Were you guys waiting out there for me the whole time?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, guys," he said quietly. He paused for a moment before looking at them again. "Can we work all of this out in the morning?"

They both nodded.

When Longshot and Smellerbee left, they looked at each other, deciding whether they should resume their post or go back to their own room.

They stayed outside Jet's.

There never really was another option.

They were Freedom Fighters.

**:–:–:–:**

_AN: This time, I have a rock-solid excuse for being slow-ish at posting: my computer crashed (the day before I had an 8-page final paper due, which I then had to rewrite from scratch) and I couldn't get it back for five days. It was not fun. Anyway, for those of you who celebrate holidays around this time (Hanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, Festivus, whatever), I wish you a happy holiday! Also, FYI, the perfect Hanukah/Christmas/Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice/Festivus/Whatever gift for any FanFic writer is always, of course, a review :) Have a great holiday and happy new year, all!_


	17. Cracks

Chapter 17: Cracks

It was Pipsqueak's low, rumbling voice that woke her.

"Look, Smellerbee's waking up!"

She wasn't sure if she should laugh at or be annoyed by the irony. She yawned and propped herself up on her elbows to see Pipsqueak and Longshot sitting side by side, both looking at her.

"Is Jet up yet?" she asked instinctively.

"Right here," he said as he walked out, into the light.

"Jet!" Pipsqueak exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Pipsqueak," Jet said. "Starving, though."

"I'll go get you guys something," Pipsqueak offered, and as he stood to leave Smellerbee remembered –

"Tell The Duke Jet's up," she called after his retreating back. But there was no need.

"Jet!" the child was running across the bridge towards them, and he threw his arms around Jet's middle. Jet looked slightly surprised for a moment, but then his face softened. He patted The Duke on his head and asked, "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm fine," he said excitedly. "You're awake! What are we doing now?"

Jet glanced at Longshot and Smellerbee then looked back at The Duke.

"We haven't decided yet," Jet said. "But while we figure that out, I want you to let everyone know that I'm awake . . . and that tonight we'll tell everyone the new plan."

Smellerbee and Longshot exchanged apprehensive looks as The Duke scampered off with an excited, "Okay!", all the melancholy that had been hanging around him the past few days evaporated. As soon as The Duke was out of sight, Jet dropped down to sit between Longshot and Smellerbee. He rubbed his eyes.

"I hope Pipsqueak gets back soon. I need to eat."

There were still dark circles under his eyes and exhaustion radiated from him.

Longshot looked at him and Jet laughed.

"Yeah, just like the old days," he said quietly.

"What?" Smellerbee asked.

"When we first met, we traveled around together and we were always hungry," Jet explained. "I can't tell you how many restaurant owners chased us off . . ."

Smellerbee laughed, but she felt slightly guilty. She'd never gone hungry a day in her life. It was so easy to forget that they came from different worlds.

"So what now?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"I think we should lie low for a while," Jet said after a few minutes' pause for thought. "I'll bet some of the people in the village aren't happy with us right now, so we should wait until we can do some real good to act."

Longshot nodded, but Smellerbee had her doubts.

"So . . . we'll just all hide out here?" Smellerbee asked. She couldn't imagine anyone else being too pleased with this plan. They were a group of perpetual action – always out scouting, spying, preparing, and, finally, attacking. But to do nothing? She wasn't sure that they could handle that.

**:–:–:–:**

Jet hadn't been lying when he told them how hungry he was. He'd eaten his way through two bowls of rice, three of soup, and two apples before he even paused.

"Getting ready to hibernate?" Smellerbee asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I haven't eaten since the morning the dam blew," Jet said.

"That was three days ago," Smellerbee said incredulously.

"I know," Jet said, grabbing a bowl of vegetables and wolfing them down. When he was finished, he stretched and leaned back against the wall. He yawned. "I'm still tired," he said. "You'd think that three days' worth of sleep would be enough."

The Duke came back over then and his face fell when he saw Jet sitting with his eyes shut, nearly asleep again.

"Jet?"

"Yeah?" Jet opened his eyes again.

"Are you okay?" The Duke asked, his young eyes big with concern.

"Fine," Jet said. "I'm just tired."

"Oh," The Duke said sadly. "When won't you be tired anymore?"

"I don't know," Jet snapped.

"Sorry," The Duke said softly. He sounded like he was about to cry. He ran off.

Jet let out a deep sigh. "I shouldn't have done that," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. He looked sadly after The Duke.

"Are you okay?" Smellerbee asked him.

"Nothing's going to be the same after this," Jet said. He shook his head.

**:–:–:–:**

Jet slept until about an hour before dinner. As soon as he emerged from his treehouse, Smellerbee asked him, "What are you going to tell the others?"

"I already told you," Jet said, an edge in his voice. "We're going to lie low." He moved past her. She'd been expecting something more . . . what? Something more _what_? That was it. She expected something more from him.

"Where are you going?" she called after him as he slid to the ground on a rope.

"I'm going for a walk," he said. Smellerbee watched him go, feeling like she'd gone through this before and would again. She sighed and felt a reassuring presence behind her – Longshot.

"I know he's coming back," she said. "At least _this_ time."

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee was right. As everyone gathered for dinner, Jet arrived. He was quiet as they ate, observing everyone as they all watched him, eagerly awaiting his speech. Just as they were finishing, Jet stood up and everyone fell immediately silent. Even Smellerbee couldn't fight a smile – she thought (or hoped) that he had thought of some brilliant plan on his walk, that he'd be back to his old self; that everything would go back to normal.

"I know a lot of you have been hearing different things about me over the past few days," Jet said, his usual cocky smile in place. "I'm sorry to report that the real story is probably way less interesting." He paused, allowing them all to boo playfully. "The truth is that I was a little sick and I just needed rest. I'm sure you all noticed Longshot and Smellerbee standing guard," he glanced at each of them while the others cheered. "I know that you're all excited to get to the next mission, but here's what's going on: the villagers aren't our biggest fans at the moment, and more importantly, we don't know where the Fire Nation will go or what they'll do next. So for now, we all have to lie low. Part of being good fighters is knowing which battles to choose. Just be smart, everyone. I'll see you all tomorrow." With that, Jet left abruptly, leaving all his Freedom Fighters sitting there stunned, not sure what to do next. Smellerbee was tempted to run after him, to get him to say his real speech, to give them all something to look forward to. She looked at Longshot, who shook his head. She wouldn't get anywhere by trying to talk to him tonight. She knew that.

**:–:–:–:**

The next morning, Smellerbee was headed for a descent platform – she wanted to take a walk to clear her head – when she was stopped by a small group of younger freedom fighters.

"Hey, Smellerbee." The girl who spoke was Slider. She had long, dark, curly hair and a short, sturdy body. Only fourteen years old, she was confrontational and jealous of Smellerbee's status as one of the elite Freedom Fighters. The bottom line: Smellerbee was a better, and smarter, fighter than her and Slider just couldn't accept it.

"Yeah?" Smellerbee responded warily. Slider and her cohorts (a girl her age who always needed to be lead and two older but no less malleable boys) stood in front of Smellerbee, blocking her path across the bridge. Slider had her arms crossed in front of her and looked ready to fight.

"We heard that Jet lost it," she said, searching Smellerbee's face for a reaction.

"You heard wrong."

"Oh? Then why was he gone for three days?"

"He wasn't gone," Smellerbee said, irritated and wary. "He was sick." It wasn't quite a lie.

"Then why is he having us sit here and do nothing instead of fighting?"

"You heard him. We have to lie low until we figure out what the Fire Nation's doing and what the plan is."

"He didn't say anything about scouting."

"Not to _you_."

"And what did he tell you?" Slider asked skeptically.

"None of your business," Smellerbee shot back. She was part of Jet's inner circle and wanted to remind Slider of it.

"You don't know anything," Slider said quietly. It was a taunt, a challenge. Smellerbee scoffed and pushed past her.

"Make way," Slider called after her mockingly. "Here comes Jet's number one boy."

Smellerbee whirled back around.

"I'm not a boy."

Slider smiled cruelly. "My mistake." She turned away, letting her hair fan out behind her the same way Kohana always did when she was smug. Smellerbee's hands curled into fists and she took one step towards Slider's group. "Hey, Slider!"

Just as they turned, Longshot came up behind Smellerbee and put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She pushed his hand away but dropped her fists all the same and compensated by shouting, "You'd better watch it."

Slider gave her a malevolent look and turned away.

Smellerbee turned back to Longshot and glared at him. It was her fight, not his.

_Stop making trouble._

"I didn't do anything! She started asking me all these questions about Jet – asking if he'd gone crazy – what was I supposed to do?"

_Ignore her._

What, just say nothing?

_Yes._

"Easy for you," Smellerbee spat. "Nobody expects you to talk." She stormed away and didn't look back. She found a rope and slid to the ground and took off. She didn't get far before she started to feel bad. She'd struck Longshot in the one place that could hurt him. She'd seen his face as others had pestered him about why he didn't talk or whispered and stared at him, trying to figure him out like he was some puzzle for their entertainment. She was cruel and wrong for saying what she did. Torn between her conscience and her pride, she stopped in her tracks and kicked the ground. She was stupid, headstrong, and impulsive.

She took a few steps back but couldn't stand the thought of seeing Longshot's face after she'd treated him like that, so she turned back and kept walking, hating herself and everyone else.

**:–:–:–:**

_ AN: This is a special announcement: I've started an Avatar blog! Because, you know, writing FanFic is not geeky enough. So far there's only one post (about what I love in A:TLA and what I hope to see in Korra), but if the blog gets enough of a positive response I'm definitely going to continue it because there's a lot I have to say about the show. If you want to check it out, it's at LiveJournal under the name BetweenTuiAndLa. Thanks for reading!_


	18. Splinter

Smellerbee returned late at night when it was quiet and still. Longshot was awake; she could sense it. She stood in the doorway and tried to say something, but no words would come. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped into bed, defeated.

_I'm sorry, Longshot_, she thought_. I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry for what's happened. I'm sorry I can't even say all this to you_.

**: –:–:–:**

When she walked out the next morning, she found Longshot leaning against the outside wall. He looked at her, nodded once, and walked away.

**:–:–:–:**

Despite this renewed but fragile peace, not everything was well in the camp. Jet, it turned out, had spent most of the previous day in his hut, exiting only briefly for meals and saying little – if anything – to anyone.

"I dunno," Pipsqueak said when she'd asked why. "It's like he doesn't want to be with us anymore."

"I heard he's lost it," Sneers said quietly.

"Who told you that?" Smellerbee demanded, rounding on Sneers.

"Oh, um, well . . ." he babbled, glancing from side to side as if he might find an answer there.

"Sneers," Smellerbee said warningly. "Who told you that?" She knew the answer before he gave it.

"Slider. She said he wasn't going to be our leader anymore . . . that he doesn't know what he's doing . . ." he trailed off, watching Smellerbee anxiously.

"If you hear her talking like that again, tell her to keep her mouth shut," Smellerbee growled.

If she was being honest with herself, what frightened Smellerbee most was the thought that Slider might be right. What if Jet wouldn't be their leader anymore? The Freedom Fighters were all she had. No home, no friends, nowhere to go if she lost them. Jet was their anchor. Without him, they were just a group of orphans without anything to live for. To fight for.

**: –:–:–:**

Over the next few days, Smellerbee could sense the mounting restlessness and tension in the group. They were itching for action, to see Jet back to his old self, to prepare for their next attack. Several people approached to ask about him, to see if the rumors were true. Nobody would tell her exactly what he or she heard or who from, but they didn't need to.

Jet was still seldom seen and even less often heard from. He spent his time brooding alone in his room, oblivious to or unfazed by the questioning stares and whispers. When Longshot or Smellerbee would approach him, he'd brush each off with a mumbled "leave me alone". Even the Duke, always Jet's favorite, was now being ignored. Pipsqueak silently stepped in and took on the role of big brother to the child.

Smellerbee could feel the group dividing but felt powerless to stop it. It was like standing with one foot on either side of an earthquake. Choose a side or fall through.

**:–:–:–:**

One evening after dinner, about a week after Jet woke up, Smellerbee heard hushed voices coming from one of the storerooms. She recognized Slider as one of the speakers.

"If he's falling apart, why should we follow him anymore?" There were murmurs of agreement. "If he thinks we can't – or won't – do anything without him, he's wrong."

"Having fun playing leader?"

The group of kids – about fifteen of them – all stared at Smellerbee in shock as she stood in the doorframe. They were sitting on the floor and on boxes around the small room, grouped around Slider, who got to her feet slowly.

"Listening in, Smellerbee?"

"It's not exactly a secret what you've been up to," Smellerbee shot back. "What has she told you all?" she asked, looking at the others. "That Jet's crazy? That the Freedom Fighters are done? She's the biggest threat there is – she's trying to divide us. She doesn't care about us; she just wants to power."

"I'd expect that from one of Jet's_ lackeys_," Slider responded quickly, seeing the seeds of doubt planted among her followers.

"His lackey? What about _you_, sitting here, betraying him because you're bored with waiting? Because after everything he's done for you, you can't even give him the benefit of the doubt – you can't just trust him. He's always been a great leader. Slider talks a lot, but you know she can't lead. Not really. She can barely fight."

"What? You think girls can't fight?" Slider asked, arching an eyebrow maliciously.

"I AM a girl."

"I mean real girls – you know, girls who aren't half boy."

"'I'm a _girl_. And I'm a better fighter than you'll ever be – and you know that." Smellerbee felt flushed with anger all over. She could see the rage boiling in Slider's eyes. Smellerbee had hit her where it hurt. Slider looked ready to punch her, and for a moment Smellerbee thought she might, but she saw the truth. Slider knew that she'd lose that fight.

Smellerbee shook her head. _Pathetic_, it said. She turned and walked away, Slider shouting after her, "Just wait, Smellerbee – you'll see!"

Smellerbee headed straight for Jet's treehouse and burst in.

"Jet, you have to do something," she said as she entered. She saw Longshot there, too. "Slider's planning – I don't know – some kind of rebellion. She thinks you can't lead anymore." She looked from Jet to Longshot, desperate for some kind of reassurance.

"Smellerbee . . . I think she might be right," Jet said weakly.

"What?"

"Listen, we could've killed innocent people! They were right – Aang, Sokka, Katara –"

"So what are you going to do now, huh? Just walk into the village and apologize?"

"No, Smellerbee, listen, I can't –"

"What? You can't handle the gang anymore?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"No, I mean, you're right. I don't think the gang is my destiny anymore."

Smellerbee was momentarily speechless. She'd been afraid of this, but it had seemed like such a distant possibility.

"Jet?"

"We're leaving. Me and Longshot. Tomorrow night."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Smellerbee demanded. Her two best friends were prepared to walk out on her. Even Longshot looked shocked and stared at Jet.

"We hadn't really talked about it, I know," Jet said to Longshot. Then he looked between Longshot and Smellerbee. "I thought maybe she could lead them." Longshot gave him a hard look. "You're right."

"What?"

Jet looked up at her, almost imploring. "We need you with us."

Staying meant losing Jet and Longshot. That wasn't an option. But leaving meant abandoning everyone else.

"And what's going to happen to the others?"

"I don't know," Jet said softly.

"What'll happen to The Duke?"

A shadow of sorrow passed across Jet's face. "Pipsqueak'll look after him. He'll be okay. Better off."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. We'll leave when everyone's asleep."

Smellerbee shook her head.

"We can't just walk out like that. We owe them more than that. _You_ owe them more than that, Jet. You brought them together. You can't just leave them without saying anything."

"But –"

"_No_. If we walk out, they'll spend all their time wondering what happened to us, why we walked out – they'll hate us for it. And could you blame them?" Smellerbee stared at Jet. She knew he was a runaway. He would be fighting his nature to do this. But she couldn't walk out on her family without a word again.

"Okay," Jet said, both defeated and determined. "Tomorrow, we'll work everything out. Then, we're gone."

As Smellerbee and Longshot left, she paused to take in the sight of their home.

_What is it?_ Longshot stood beside her.

"It's nothing."

_Come on._

"It's just that when I first came here, I thought it was something solid, you know? Something I could depend on. I guess I should know better than that by now."

**: –:–:–:**

Smellerbee didn't sleep well that night and knew that Longshot didn't either. They lay quietly, each in a private world. Smellerbee tried and failed to tell herself that she wasn't afraid. She was brought back to before, when what she was escaping was so bad that nothing she would face in running would be more frightening. She never even got past her basic survival mode – she was still running when Jet found her and she had barely thought of what she'd do once she got far enough away. But now it seemed stupid not to think of. Would they just move into some town, get jobs, try to live like normal civilians? She tried to picture it, herself working, but couldn't come up with anything. She didn't have any practical skills. Maybe she could work in a shop?

Then she thought of Longshot. What could he do? He was obviously intelligent, but could he get a job where he didn't need to talk? They could lie and say he was a mute, but Smellerbee felt that was wrong. Not because of the deception, but because of what it did to Longshot. It took away his power. His choice.

It struck Smellerbee that she didn't actually know if Longshot was a mute or not. He could be. Would it change anything?

No, she decided. Either way she didn't expect him to talk. Maybe if he was it would be easier for other people to understand him, but Smellerbee didn't want it to be any easier for them.

**:–:–:–:**

At breakfast, Slider surprised everyone but Smellerbee when she stood up and shouted from the other side of the table, "Hey, Jet." Jet looked up, wary. He glanced at Smellerbee, who gave him an _I-told-you-so_ look.

"What is it, Slider?" Jet asked, putting on his usual bravado, standing up as well.

"Me and some of the others have been talking," Slider said, looking to her supporters who all looked slightly uncomfortable with being put on the spot like that. "And we think it's best for us if we go somewhere else."

"You don't like the way I run things?" Jet asked, staring her down.

"You haven't been leading since before the Avatar got here."

"If you want to walk out, that's your choice," Jet said. "But don't come back."

"Fine," Slider said, obviously surprised she didn't have to put up more of a fight.

"Go on," Jet said. "Get out of here!" There was a flurry of movement as about twenty kids – mostly the younger group – scrambled up, threw knapsacks across their backs, and hurried to the descent platforms. Jet watched it all with narrowed eyes. Slider was the last to leave. She gave Smellerbee one last contemptuous look before she left. Smellerbee could already see their future. As soon as they hit the ground, a few of them would know it was a mistake. The group would divide. They'd go their separate ways, duos and trios of kids with nothing.

The remaining Freedom Fighters – not even twenty of them – looked lost and confused. Now that their numbers had dropped by more than half, they looked frightened and weak. It was one of the saddest sights Smellerbee had ever seen.

**:–: –:–:**

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Pipsqueak said as if he'd been suddenly punched in the stomach. Jet, Smellerbee, Longshot, Pipsqueak, and Sneers were gathered in one of the storerooms that evening, with Jet trying to explain why they had to go.

"After everything that's happened, I don't think that what we're doing is the best way to fight," Jet said. "The Fire Nation has taken over almost the entire area here. It'll only be a matter of time before they find us. And we can't travel somewhere else without being noticed – there's too many of us. It's better if everyone figures out where to go next." Longshot gave Jet a look. Jet sighed and, his head hanging in shame, admitted, "I can't handle the gang anymore. I need to go somewhere else. To get a clean start."

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at Jet. They weren't used to seeing him this way.

"We don't have anywhere else to go," Sneers said quietly.

"You guys can probably go down to the village and help them rebuild. Tell them you're refugees from somewhere further south. They'll be grateful for the help. You can stay there – pretend you've never heard of the Freedom Fighters. They'll believe it if there's not that many of you. If you're looking for somewhere to stay."

"What are you guys going to do?"

"Head east, probably," Jet said. "Too many people know me around here. We're leaving late tonight. But don't tell the others. They won't like it."

"Won't like what?" The Duke had walked in. They were stupid to try and hide anything from him.

"Nothing," Jet said. His serious face was now heavy with pain as he looked at the child.

"Tell me," The Duke said. Standing strong, his fists curled at his sides, he looked just like Jet, and Smellerbee understood why they had to leave him behind.

"Listen," Jet got down on one knee so he was at The Duke's level. He put his hand on The Duke's shoulder and said, "I can't stay here anymore."

"Why not?" The Duke asked, his eyes going wide.

"It's because . . . things have changed," Jet said. "It's not right for me to be here any longer."

"What about the Freedom Fighters?"

"No matter what happens, you'll always be a Freedom Fighter."

"I'm going with you."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, The Duke. You can't."

"Why?" The Duke's eyes were filling with tears now.

"I didn't always do the right thing, The Duke. I messed up. You can fix our legacy, okay? But only if you stay here with Pipsqueak. Help rebuild the village. I need you to do that for me."

The Duke sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his tiny hand. He gathered his strength and set his face in a determined expression.

"Okay."

**:–:–:–:**

"Longshot? Smellerbee?" It was a question – Jet was asking them if they were still with him. He stood in the doorway, a large backpack filled with his possessions and a sleeping bag giving his silhouette a strange and alien shape. Smellerbee and Longshot both scrambled up and grabbed their already-packed bags. Jet stared at them for a moment.

"Are you guys still sure you want to do this?" he asked. "I'll understand if you want to stay."

"We're coming with you, Jet," Smellerbee said firmly. Longshot nodded.

"Okay – let's go."

"Hang on, guys," it was Pipsqueak, carrying The Duke on his massive shoulders. "We just wanted to say goodbye." He put the child down and approached Smellerbee.

"I'll miss you," he said, nearly crushing Smellerbee in a bear hug.

"You, too," Smellerbee said. Pipsqueak moved on to bid goodbye to Longshot and Jet. The Duke shyly approached Smellerbee and said quietly, "Bye, Smellerbee," and surprised her when he darted forward, threw his arms around her waist for a moment, then let go.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" Smellerbee said, patting him on the head. He nodded.

The Duke looked less sure of how to approach Longshot. They looked at each other for a moment, Longshot's face twitched briefly into a small smile, and The Duke smiled back hugged him around the middle. Longshot hugged him back gently, gave him one last look in the eye – the kind of look only Longshot could give – and released him so he could move on to Jet.

The Duke stood in front of Jet like he was trying to be a little soldier – no emotion, no affection.

"What? Longshot and Smellerbee get hugs and I don't?" Jet asked, raising an eyebrow. The Duke laughed and rushed forward to hug Jet, who dropped to his knees to be level with him. "Look after Pipsqueak for me, okay?" Jet asked. The Duke nodded into Jet's shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss you," The Duke said, muffled by tears.

"I'll miss you, too," Jet said, and there was something so raw in it that Smellerbee felt like she was wrong for witnessing it.

After that, there was nothing more to say.

When the two separated, Smellerbee, Longshot, and Jet headed to the descent platform, took hold of the ropes, and leapt down, leaving their home for good this time, heading off into a dark and unpredictable night.


	19. Risk

Chapter 19: Risk

They walked until they reached the town on the edge of the forest, as Smellerbee knew they would. Standing on a hill overlooking it, she felt a pang of loneliness in her chest. It was her town. She could even see her house in the distance atop a second hill. Between them lay small residences and the marketplace, the town's center. The only thing that marred the view was the presence of Fire Nation banners, tanks, and the soldiers' quarters set up on either side of the town, holding the people in its dangerous embrace.

"We'll have to stop and get food," Jet said. "I didn't bring much." Longshot and Jet started down the hill, but Smellerbee hesitated. She could put the others in danger by going. What if somebody recognized her? What if they found out who she really was? But going would also mean seeing what she left behind – maybe even finding out what happened to her mother and sister. She struggled to remember how long she'd been gone. It might've been years. She wondered if it would be possible to sneak into her house, hide in the servants' quarters; maybe they could bring her sister down so they could see each other once more –

"Smellerbee? You coming?"

"Yeah, sorry," she called, following. She hoped that her altered appearance and lengthy absence would suffice to make her invisible. "Listen, we have to be careful here. The Fire Nation's been in this town for a while."

"Don't worry," Jet said. "They won't notice a couple of kids."

But they weren't just a couple of kids. They were a rebel leader, a master archer, and an escapee. Smellerbee might have been more cautious, listened to her instinct warning her of the danger, if she hadn't wanted to see her home so desperately.

They entered the marketplace, already beginning to buzz with activity. A few soldiers were hanging around in groups of two and three, but they looked bored, like they didn't expect any trouble, and the townspeople ignored them, like they didn't expect to be given any.

Smellerbee walked between Jet and Longshot and focused on not looking anyone in the eye. Whenever anyone would call out "Hey!" to a friend, she'd feel fear creeping up on the back of her neck, always certain someone had spotted her.

"What do you think's going on in there?" Jet asked, nodding to the mansion on the hill, draped in Fire Nation insignias, the front gate firmly shut and flanked by armed guards.

"The Fire Nation must've set up area headquarters," Smellerbee said. She couldn't help but add, "Probably some rich merchant's house." Jet scoffed. "I'll see if I can find out what happened," Smellerbee said. "You guys get the food. I'll catch up with you." Jet and Longshot headed for the nearest produce stand while Smellerbee walked further up the road, towards the house. She found a stall where a tall, heavyset woman stood behind a table laden with small ornamental boxes. Smellerbee feigned interest in them, even asking the price of several, before looking at the house as if noticing it for the first time.

"What's up there?" she asked.

"What? Oh, you mean the Tokushima house!" Smellerbee nodded, pleased with herself for finding someone so obviously fond of gossip. "Well, the Fire Nation set up headquarters in their house a few months back. Well! The daughter then _marries_ the general! Can you believe that?" The woman paused for breath, looking expectantly at Smellerbee.

"She married him?" she exclaimed in fake shock.

"Yes! And just days after that, her _sister_ ran away! Can you _be-lieve_ that? Just ran away!" Again the woman waited for a reaction.

"What did she run away for?" Smellerbee gasped.

"I don't know for sure. Nobody does. But I'll let you in on a little secret . . . that girl was always running around, making trouble. My guess is that she ran off into the woods to become a savage."

Smellerbee noticed something she'd left out of the story.

"What about her father? Didn't he try and stop her?"

"There's where it gets even stranger," the woman said. "He was taken away when they took the rest of the earthbenders, but they also took his grown son. Nobody's quite sure why, and nobody'll talk about it. I used to be pretty good friends with one of the servants, but even they won't talk anymore!" So nobody knew where they'd been taken or what had happened to them. The woman lowered her voice dramatically. "I think the Fire Nation keeps a tight leash on them. They certainly keep a tight leash on all of _us_ out here, taxing us out of everything. Though some of it, I expect, will go to the reward."

"The reward?"

"Yes! The reward! For the girl that ran off. They're just desperate to get her back. Her poor mother must be crazy with grief . . ."

Smellerbee felt like she'd been doused in freezing water. They were after her. There was a _reward_ for her. She was in more danger than she'd imagined.

"Look at this," the woman said. Without Smellerbee noticing, she'd reached under the table and produced a piece of paper – a missing poster. With her face on it. For a strange moment, Smellerbee felt like she was staring into a mirror from the past. It was herself, but without the warrior makeup she always wore now and with hair falling below her shoulders, framing a somehow softer face.

"Hmm . . ."

Smellerbee started. She'd nearly forgotten the woman was there. She was looking from the poster to Smellerbee. "Oh, dear. Oh, I'm so sorry, child." Smellerbee's eyes widened in fear as she realized what the woman was about to do.

"Come quick, somebody some quick! _I've found her_!"

She immediately caught the attention of a pair of soldiers coming up the path. They stared at Smellerbee, and for a moment time hung suspended.

"AFTER HER!"

Smellerbee pulled the table over, spilling all the woman's boxes in their path and ran up the street as fast as her legs would carry her. She turned to see if the soldiers were close behind – a huge mistake, as she found out when she crashed into a cart (laden with fat cabbages) a merchant was pushing to the other side of the street. Smellerbee pulled herself up and leapt over the broken pieces of wood and the cabbage heads now rolling freely in every direction, ignoring the merchant's wail of "My cabbages!" and took off down a sidestreet. It ended with only one way to exit – to the left, parallel to the marketplace, heading away from the house. She ran as fast as she could but could hear, even sense, the soldiers hot on her trail. She ducked down a street to her right but saw a second pair of soldiers at the end of it. She spun back around and saw the first soldiers still chasing her. Down the other side, soldiers were approaching in response to the excitement. She only had one escape route.

A ladder stood propped against a half-finished rooftop and Smellerbee darted up it. Lucky for her, nobody was working on the roof this early in the morning. She yanked the ladder up behind her so it sat on the roof, inaccessible. She leapt from this roof to the next, heading for the crowded marketplace, her only chance of losing them. The soldiers were further behind her now, not sure whether to chase her across the rooftops or on the ground.

She leapt down into an alleyway that emptied into the marketplace and hit the ground already running; she could hear the soldiers gaining ground behind her. She ran down the street she could see Longshot and Jet less than twenty yards away –

"_Catch that girl!_" a soldier commanded behind her.

As she sailed past him, Smellerbee heard Jet shout, "We'll catch her!" Smellerbee turned down a street to the left, turned right at the end of it, and waited for Jet and Longshot to appear.

"Tell them I headed for the house," Smellerbee ordered. "Meet me on the hill by the forest when you can."

"What –"

"Just do it!"

Smellerbee could hear the soldiers approaching in the distance. She started running again and didn't stop or even slow at all until she was hidden behind a tree on the hill. She climbed up quickly and settled on a branch to wait. Her heart was still racing. Every sound made her jump.

When she finally managed to calm herself, she realized that there was no hope of sneaking into her house now. She might never see her family again.

**:–:–:–:**

"What was that, Smellerbee?" Jet demanded. It was that night, once they'd stopped to make camp, far away from the village. Smellerbee had refused to talk the entire way.

"I told you, it was nothing," Smellerbee said defensively.

"That wasn't nothing. Those soldiers said they'd been looking for you for weeks." He stared at her, expecting an answer. She threw down her bag angrily and started pulling out her sleeping bad, turning her back to Jet. "What is it you're not telling us?"

"None of your business," she snapped.

"We're your friends! What's so bad that you can't tell us?"

Smellerbee turned and saw Jet and Longshot side-by-side. Jet was looking at her imploringly, but Longshot looked crushed and desperate. _Please, tell me_.

They were all she had. They were her only family. They were bound together now more than ever, and she was keeping secrets.

"Do you really want to know?"

**:–:–:–:**

When the campsite was set up, a small fire burning, they sat down and waited for Smellerbee to start. She couldn't look at either of them.

"The guards were looking for me because I ran away from home just before I joined you guys. The general who runs the town now was – he _is_ – desperate to get me back. He likes control." Smellerbee paused and tried to shake the image of Chang's mad, twisted face from her mind. "That house on the hill was mine. My dad's a merchant. When the Fire Nation came around my dad let them use our house because he thought it would put us on their good side. He thought it would keep us safe. I didn't like it. And neither did my brother. And then when we met the general we found out . . . he's . . ." she struggled to find the words. "He's the worst person I've ever met." She paused again. "I have a sister. She's three years older than me. Really pretty, too. The general, he – he wanted her. He told her that if we weren't – if _she_ wasn't . . . hospitable," she nearly choked on the word and all the weight it carried. "– that he'd send my family away. They were gathering up all the earthbenders and anyone who resisted, but they kept my dad around even though he was an earthbender because the trade was useful. It meant the town had money – more for them to steal. But he wouldn't leave my sister alone," she said. "I had no idea at first – I wish I did, I could have done something –" her voice was breaking now and she was fighting off the need to cry. She took a deep breath. "He made her marry him. She's going to have a baby in a few months." Smellerbee thought of the baby and wondered if Kohana would be able to love it. How could something so innocent be so cruel? "After the wedding, he broke his promise," she said darkly. "I woke up one morning and he was arresting my dad and brother. It was just to get them out of the way. My brother was the strong one, the one who fought against him. My dad just did what they asked him and my sister was scared and my mother was crazy . . . she couldn't handle what they did to all of us. He didn't need to do it. But he wanted to show us that he was in control, that he could do whatever he wanted." Smellerbee felt cold all over with fear at the thought of it. "I tried to do something," she said desperately. "But there were so many of them . . . he said that I was next. He was going to send me to the Fire Nation, to some school where they'd teach me to be obedient . . . and then once he found someone in the Fire Nation he was going to marry me off, just like that."

Smellerbee looked up at her friends at last and found that they were staring at her. Neither of them knew how to react.

"That girl the soldiers were talking about on our first scouting mission . . . that was you?" Jet asked at long last.

"Yeah," Smellerbee said softly.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't think you'd understand."

_Why?_ begged Longshot's expression.

"I didn't think you guys could feel bad for a rich runaway. I didn't think that you'd want me if you knew who I was."

Jet locked his eyes on Smellerbee's and said firmly, "You're a Freedom Fighter. That's all that matters."


	20. Wrong

Much later that same night, after Jet had fallen asleep, Smellerbee finally said what she'd been wanting to since she told her story.

"I'm sorry, Longshot."

He sat up and looked at her.

"I mean about not telling you the truth."

A look of sadness settled on Longshot's face and he shook his head. _Don't be sorry_.

"Sometimes it just doesn't feel real, you know? And I guess I was hoping that if I just left it behind, maybe I could forget it."

Longshot shook his head knowingly. _Nothing can make you forget_.

"What happened to you before you joined the Freedom Fighters?"

Longshot shook his head again and lay back down.

"You can tell me," Smellerbee said. "I'll understand."

He shook his head again, resolute. _No_.

"Longshot, whatever happened . . ." Smellerbee trailed off as she saw tears shining on his face. "I'm here for you," she finished softly. She saw Longshot give the tiniest nod.

**:–:–:–:**

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Smellerbee asked. It was the next morning and they were on the road again, Jet leading the way.

"Not really," he said breezily. "Right now, let's just focus on getting as far away from here as possible."

"Right," Smellerbee said, feeling the flush of shame on her neck. It was because of her they had to move so far so fast, diving into the bushes whenever they heard anyone approaching. All the same, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable not knowing where they were headed.

As if sensing this, Jet said, "Don't worry about it."

"And yet, I worry," Smellerbee muttered. She'd long since learned that Jet's confidence was the same whether executing a carefully laid plan or making it up as he went along.

**:–:–:–:**

Just after midday they decided they'd stop and get lunch in one of the nearby towns. Jet would've had them eat from the food they'd brought with them, but Smellerbee insisted on going into one of the cafes in town, her treat. She still felt bad for hiding her history from them and even worse for putting them in danger. After very little resistance, Jet and Longshot gave in. Smellerbee sold an old ring of hers with a small emerald to a man with a jewelry cart and, her pockets now jingling with gold and silver, set off to find somewhere to eat.

They may have had plenty of money, but they were still dressed like peasants so Smellerbee took them into one of the not-so-wealthy-looking-places and chose a booth near the door. It just seemed like the safest option, and she was still in escape mode from their last stop.

The waitress, and older woman with graying hair, looking friendly enough but also very world-weary came over and placed menus down in front of them. She asked, "What can I get you boys to drink?"

Smellerbee stared at the woman. "I'm a girl."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear," the woman exclaimed, blushing. "It's just that you look so like your brothers . . ."

"They're not my brothers."

"Oh." Something flickered across the woman's face Smellerbee couldn't quite place. She looked at a loss for what to do.

"We get that a lot, don't we, Smellerbee?" Jet asked in a fake jovial voice, his foot pressing down on Smellerbee's under the table. He addressed the waitress, "We travel around a lot and people always want to know."

"Oh, of course," the woman said, though there was something hard in her voice.

Jet ordered drinks, and the waitress left to get them.

"Smellerbee, could you not cause problems everywhere we go?" Jet asked, his voice low.

"It's not like I'm trying to," Smellerbee hissed back. "It's not my fault she's an idiot."

Longshot's eyes were over Smellerbee's head and then he flicked his gaze back to Smellerbee. _She's coming back_.

"Just let it go," Jet said to her finally.

They ordered sandwiches and ate them in silence, anger still hanging in the air. When they finished, Smellerbee got up to use the bathroom. On her way back out, she was stopped by the waitress.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"Fine," Smellerbee said, startled. The woman had a look of such intense concern on her face.

"Who are those boys?" she asked.

"My friends," Smellerbee said.

"Are you refugees?"

"Yeah, why?" Smellerbee said, guarded.

"I've seen it before. A young refugee like you, her whole family gone, forced to travel with boys like them for protection in exchange for the worst thing they can ask of you . . ." the woman was looking at her desperately now, and Smellerbee understood what she meant.

"They _are_ my family," she said, and then she bolted back to the table. "We have to get out of here." She threw a handful of coins down onto the table.

"What's going on?" Jet and Longshot sprang to their feet, looking around like they expected firebenders to attack from all sides.

"We have to go," she said, pulling Jet by the arm out the front door. She let him go as soon as the three were outside the cafe and started up the crowded main street as quickly as she could without running.

"What happened?" Jet asked. Smellerbee looked behind her and saw the waitress standing outside the café, looking around. She hadn't spotted them yet. Smellerbee turned sharply around a corner and down an alley.

Jet took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. "Smellerbee, talk. You said you wouldn't do this anymore."

"The waitress," Smellerbee started, but she was at a loss for words. She was shaking now, and almost crying, though she couldn't explain – even to herself – why.

"What about her?" Jet asked, examining Smellerbee's face for answers. Longshot, standing behind her, put an arm across her shoulder.

Smellerbee shuddered. Jet and Longshot both released her, bewildered.

"She thought that you two were – that _I_ – that you made me . . ." She shook her head, staring at them, willing them to understand. They were clueless. Smellerbee stared blankly at the dusty ground, took a deep breath, and said, "She told me she's seen plenty of refugee girls who have to travel with guys who protect them in exchange for –"

Jet swore and took a few steps away from her, running his hands through his hair. Even Longshot stepped back, staring at her like he'd never seen her before.

Smellerbee stood, still trembling, wishing desperately for something she couldn't name.

She felt Longshot's tentative hand back on her shoulder. She looked at him.

_We'd never do that to you . . . you know that, right? . . . Right?_

She nodded just slightly and Longshot pulled her to him in a tight hug. She felt Jet awkwardly pat her on the back, uncertain. "Longshot's right," he said weakly.

Smellerbee moved away from them, trying to clear her confused mind.

"Come on," she said emotionlessly. "We should get out of here."

**:–:–:–:**

They walked in silence for a long time, Smellerbee leading the way, the guys lagging behind without any idea of what to do.

As the sun began to set, Longshot came up beside Smellerbee. _Are you okay?_

"I'm fine," Smellerbee said.

_Are you sure?_

"Look, I don't know what that was about . . . I just got a little freaked out," Smellerbee rambled, her mind still racing with the thought of it. "I thought she might start asking questions and I didn't want to bring any attention to us and she wasn't going to drop it and I thought that the sooner we got out the better –" Longshot silenced her with a quick squeeze of her hand. Smellerbee shook her head. "I don't know," she said honestly. "Just hearing her talk about you like that . . . I – I couldn't handle that. You're all I have."

Silence fell until Jet said, "I think we should keep walking tonight. We've got a long way to go."


	21. Talent

Smellerbee felt strange and exposed in a way she never had before. Even just with Jet and Longshot, she felt like an outsider now. She'd tried to leave Mori behind, but somehow she'd caught up, and Smellerbee didn't know what to do with her. She didn't know quite when they'd divided or how – who was to blame for abandoning her family? Could Smellerbee make up for Mori's deed? Or was that the moment Mori died? Smellerbee had worked so hard to silence her, to change her own story, but Mori had found her and reminded her of the truth.

It must be easier, Smellerbee thought, to be somebody else.

Somehow, she still hadn't learned.

**:–:–:–:**

"We've got to look for somewhere to settle down," Jet announced one evening as they at around a fire. "I'm serious this time."

They'd been traveling for a week, passing through countless towns, finding reasons to leave all of them.

"Settle down?" Smellerbee asked. She couldn't picture them staying in a normal town and trying to act like normal people. They were something separate. Wanderers.

"You know, find an apartment, get jobs," Jet said.

Longshot nodded, but Smellerbee felt unsure. She liked it just the three of them. She didn't want to have ties to anywhere new. They can't uproot you if you haven't put down any roots.

"What about the Fire Nation?" Smellerbee asked. "Shouldn't we keep going?"

"I've told you, Smellerbee, they're not in this area. They've taken most of the coasts so inland is the only way to go. With any luck they'll stay out of this area until the Avatar can finish off the Fire Lord."

Longshot looked from Smellerbee to Jet.

"Yes, definitely," Jet answered. "We'll have to look around at the next town we stop at." Longshot looked at them both significantly again. "Longshot's right," Jet said, looking at Smellerbee. "We should probably tell everyone you're our cousin or something. We don't want anybody asking questions . . ." he trailed off, seeing the look of displeasure on Smellerbee's face. She hated having to justify herself like this. People were so desperate to protect her when she was with Jet and Longshot. Where had they been when Chang took over? Somehow, wealth and title made people 'respectable' more than character did.

"No final decisions until we talk about it," Smellerbee said firmly. She knew well that Jet could be rash and she had had more than enough of it to last a lifetime. Longshot nodded and Jet said, "Okay, then. Tomorrow morning, we start looking." He paused then looked back at Smellerbee. "Is that okay with everyone?" Jet's dark eyes were shining in the firelight, and for the first time in a long time there was a tiny smile that signified sarcasm fluttering on his lips. Smellerbee was struck momentarily by how beautiful he really was. She couldn't help but laugh a little. "That's just fine," she said.

**:–:–:–:**

It took them a few days, but they did eventually find a merchant town of suitable size where there were apartments and jobs to be had. Just walking down the street they saw signs – _help wanted_, they begged. They heard from a fruit vendor that many of the town's youth had gone to join the army recently, opening up jobs all over town.

"This looks promising," Smellerbee said, pointing to a sign that read: _Help Wanted. Apartment for rent_. It was a ceramic shop, the windows lined with beautifully painted pots, dishes, pitchers, and figurines.

"Let's go," Jet said. He and Smellerbee walked into the shop, but Longshot hung back on the street, looking uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" Smellerbee asked, looking back at him. Longshot cast an uneasy look at the shop and with obvious reluctance followed his friends through the door. "Are you okay?" Smellerbee asked, but Longshot's face was inscrutable.

The shop was rather small, only about twenty-five feet by twenty-five feet, but it was well-organized and did not feel cramped despite the many shelves that lined the walls and the tables and displays that stood every few feet. It was brightly lit, with the large, open windows allowing sunlight to pour in, the shelves of ceramic leaving artful shadows all over the place. A small woman with graying hair pulled back from her face was sitting at one of three pottery wheels in the back corner, working on a large glob of clay. Her hands were so covered with the stuff it was nearly impossible to tell where her fingers ended and the clay began. Her foot pressed a pedal the base of the wheel over and over again in a steady, rhythmic motion. She did not look up as they entered. She was concentrating too hard. Jet took a step forward, but Longshot gave him a warning look. This woman was not to be interrupted.

Smellerbee took a moment to admire some of the vases nearest her. They had beautiful, intricate paintings on them: fields of flowers, a tranquil waterfall, a mother holding her child, even a fine ostrich-horse could be found on the pottery. Each scene looked somehow alive. Smellerbee looked over at the woman. Had she done all of these? Was she really so gifted?

The answer, Smellerbee concluded, had to be yes. A beautiful, flawless bowl now sat where the unidentifiable lump of clay had been just minutes before. The woman slowed the wheel to a stop, looked at the bowl for a moment, then turned her attention to the three strange teenagers in her shop.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice was sharp, businesslike, not particularly warm, but by no means unfriendly.

"Yes, actually," Jet said, stepping forward. "We saw the sign outside your store, that you had an apartment for rent and are looking for help?"

"And?" the woman asked, looking expectant.

"Well, we think we could help you on both counts," Jet smiled the way he always did when he wanted something and planned to get it through sheer charm.

The woman was not impressed, but instead looked almost amused.

"Help me, will you? By moving in, ruining the quiet, and needing training just to not destroy the ceramic?" Jet's smile faltered. He hadn't been expecting this. But something behind the woman's tone eased Smellerbee's nerves. She was feeling them out, making sure they were tough enough to handle her, not shooting them down. Smellerbee liked this woman already.

"We've been looking for work, all three of us," she said. "And we're hoping we can work for you. We're fast learners."

"Are you, now?" the woman asked, looking appraisingly at Smellerbee.

"Yes," she said. "Anything you need us for, we can do it."

The woman considered them for a moment.

"Where are you three from?"

"West," Jet answered. "We're refugees." He said this sadly, and Smellerbee knew full well he expected the usual "you poor dears!" response. The woman was not so obliging.

"Yes, many refugees pass through," she said nonchalantly. "I should have guessed just looking at you." None of the three spoke. They were a little the worse for wear, but they weren't _completely_ disheveled. Were they that obvious?

They waited for the woman's answer.

"You haven't yet convinced me I should hire you."

Before Jet or Smellerbee could say a word, Longshot moved forward to one of the empty pottery wheels. A small table beside it held soft clay. Longshot put some on the wheel and cupped his hands around it and began to spin it, adding liberal amount of water from a small glass he'd picked up from the table. They all watched him work without a word as he pushed the clay into the center of the wheel with the heel of his hand and slowly worked it until a small vase with a wide, open rim was sitting before them. As a final touch, once it stopped spinning, Longshot bent the rim so there was a place perfect for pouring. He took a small piece of clay, rolled it into a cylinder, and attached it to the vase like a handle, turning it into a tiny pitcher. He sat back form his work and looked at the woman.

"It seems we have a talent on our hands," she said. "And a good one."

Smellerbee and Jet stared at Longshot, dumbfounded.

"Did you know he could do that?" Jet asked without looking at Smellerbee.

"Nope."

"Me neither."

Longshot looked up at them, amused by their shocked faces. Then he turned back to the woman, who was smiling truly for the first time.

"It looks like I found myself new tenants – and a new apprentice."


	22. Peace

Chapter 22: Peace

The apartment was tiny. Three rooms: a small kitchen with a counter that overlooked an open main room and a bathroom. There was no furniture to speak of, a single small, rectangular window that overlooked the main road and a brick chimney on one side's wall. As they dropped their bags on the floor, Jet looked around proudly and, taking the twig from his mouth, said, "This is it guys. We're starting over. We've got a place of our own."

Smellerbee looked around the miniscule place. There was a fine layer of dust over everything. It was by no means beautiful. When she looked at her friends, though, at the expressions on their faces, she was reminded again that she had grown up rich. This place might have been tiny to her, but it was a palace to them. It was theirs.

Together, they went downstairs to start their first day.

"I don't have much for you to do today," the woman said. "In case you haven't figured it out –" she indicated a display pot painted with the words _Ms. Zhu's Fine Ceramics_ "– I'm Ms. Zhu. I own and run this shop. Business is booming and I have a lot to do – gathering clay from the mountain at the edge of town, preparing it for use, making everything, loading the kiln, firing, unloading the kiln," she pointed to the intimidating the metal monstrosity in the corner of the room with a chimney extending from it up through the roof (and, Smellerbee knew, their apartment) "– and, of course, painting and re-firing everything." She looked at them expectantly. Longshot alone nodded.

"You must've worked with pottery before," she said. Longshot nodded once more. "What's your name again?"

"His name is Longshot," Jet said. "He doesn't really talk much."

"Well, that works out just fine, because most people in this world talk too much." Smellerbee couldn't help but smile at this. She liked Ms. Zhu more and more with each passing moment. "I just got a new batch of clay yesterday, so we won't need to dig for a while. I'll probably need you two to do that when the time comes," she said, looking at Jet and Smellerbee. Then she turned to Longshot. "You I want working in here. Can you glaze?" Longshot nodded. "Excellent." She surveyed the shop for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I was nearly done for the day – as I said, at the moment not much to do, but tomorrow there'll be plenty. For now, I might as well show you three where you'll be getting the clay when the time comes. Follow me."

They ended up following her through the center of town and up a mountain pass, through the thick and ancient trees. Along the way she'd pointed out all kinds of things – where they should buy food, the people she knew, who she'd advise them to stay away from, where different paths on the mountain led. But when they got up to her digging spot, a flat area hidden behind a group of boulders, she simply stopped her commentary, sat down on a rock, and stayed still and quiet for a moment.

"Look at that," she said softly at last, staring at something behind them.

The three refugees turned around. Smellerbee nearly gasped. Through a gap in the trees there was a beautiful view – the town like little toys, the ribbon of a river winding lazily through the land, the many hues of green that quilted everything before them. Smellerbee had never before appreciated just how many trees there were in the world.

"Your main challenge," said Ms. Zhu, recapturing their attention (though Smellerbee hated to tear her eyes from such a sight) "– will be to get the clay without being distracted by _that_. Believe me, I've spent many hours up here just looking at it all."

She showed them where to dig and what to look for and then led them back down to the shop, allowing them to move forward in silence this time.

Whenever she could catch a glimpse of the landscape Smellerbee would move slower just to have a moment more to look at it. It was so peaceful. She wanted to close her eyes, stand perfectly still, and become a part of that land.

"Have you ever seen anything that beautiful?" she asked Longshot. He paused, looked away from her, then shook his head.

When they reached the shop the sun was already setting. Ms. Zhu gave Jet and Smellerbee leave to go upstairs, but she held Longshot back so he could show her his glazing abilities.

As they moved up the stairs, Jet said to Smellerbee, "I have a good feeling about this place."

"Me, too," she said, and Jet smiled.

"Good – it was you I was worried about."

"Really?"

"You never seemed to like anywhere we looked before."

"Yeah, well, this place is different," Smellerbee said, pushing open the door to their apartment.

"How so?"

"It actually feels like it could be home."

**:–:–:–:**

When Longshot returned a few hours later he found Jet and Smellerbee standing in the kitchen over a few simmering pots, laughing and playfully pushing one another aside, vying for position to stir a pot of noodles.

"Hey," Smellerbee said as she saw Longshot. "We found some of this stuff –" she gestured to the pots and pans and wooden utensils littering the counter "– and we figured we'd make a real meal for once."

Longshot nodded and headed to the sink. His hands were covered in a variety of colored glazes, all dried into pastel hues. As he ran his pale hands under the water, the glaze turned darker.

"Longshot finally got some color," Jet teased. The corner of Longshot's mouth twitched. Jet turned back to the stove until –

"Hey!"

Longshot surprised Jet, running his hand across Jet's face, leaving a trail of glaze behind. Smellerbee had a good laugh at him until Longshot got her, too. She shrieked with laughter and swatted his hand away. She reached into the sink and splashed him, accidentally catching Jet in the crossfire. Longshot splashed her back, soaking Jet again.

"Hey – HEY!" Smellerbee and Longshot stopped their horseplay upon seeing the look of severity of Jet's face. He paused, looking at them. "The sauce is burning." He and Smellerbee burst into laughter.

**:–:–:–:**

Later that evening Ms. Zhu brought them three straw mattresses and helped them carry up three low-lying wooden bed frames, which they arranged in a row beneath the window, Smellerbee in the middle (as it so often had been when they'd been traveling). As they settled down to sleep Jet said, "We've done really well for ourselves, guys."

"Yeah," Smellerbee said thoughtfully. Jet turned towards her.

"I mean it," he insisted. "We said we were going to start over, and we are."

Longshot propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Jet.

"I know, but that was different," Jet said. "I thought forming the gang was the right thing. But now, I think this is." Smellerbee smiled. There was something comforting in hearing the unshakeable confidence back in his voice.

"We're going to be okay," Smellerbee said.

"That's right," Jet said while Longshot nodded. Jet turned away and settled into a sleeping position while Smellerbee turned to face Longshot. She smiled at him and nodded once. He nodded back. Smellerbee shut her eyes. Although she never quite remembered what she dreamed that night, she knew when she woke up that it had been good.

**:–:–:–:**

_AN: Sorry for failing at posting regularly. I was hoping to finish this entire story by the end of the summer so I could go on hiatus while working on my novel (I always feel pretentious when I mention "my novel"). Obviously, that's not going to happen. I'll post when I can and get this story done as soon as possible, but it will take a while. I've got a lot left to cover with this. I love writing it, so it's okay. Readers, you are awesome for putting up with me. Thanks so much._

_If you want to ask me any questions/bug me into posting chapters faster, you can check out my Avatar tumblr account, which is rapidly becoming my new obsession:_

_.com/_


	23. Work

Chapter 23: Work

Once Smellerbee came fully awake the next morning, the fear started to set in.

Bent over the bathroom sink she splashed water onto her face and stared at her reflection in the small and spotted mirror.

"I don't know how to do anything," she said quietly, staring at herself. She'd never had a real job. She had no useful skills outside the forest. She didn't know the first thing about ceramics. What if she broke something? What if she screwed something up? What if she got them all fired? What if –

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened it to see Longshot standing there. His eyes took her in for a moment and then he reached out, gently squeezed her shoulder, and walked away. Somehow, Smellerbee felt better.

She dried her face and went into the kitchen, where she was nearly hit in the head by an apple.

"Hey!" she caught it just before it connected with her right temple. She saw Jet's devilish grin.

"Breakfast," he said. "We'll be heading down in a few minutes."

They ate quietly and as soon as everyone was done, Jet, obviously itching to get started, said, "Let's go."

They found Ms. Zhu already in the shop, painting the final cherry blossom petals on a massive jar.

"Excellent," she said as they entered, though she didn't look at them. "We've got a lot to do today, and I want to get started right away. You three can start by taking all of the vases from the finished shelf in the back room and loading them onto the cart out back. Make sure you box them properly first. Everything you need is back there. Longshot, you can show them."

Longshot nodded and turned to enter the back storeroom and the others followed him. The back room was narrow but ran the length of the shop and was lined with shelves on one side. At one end, right by the outside door, was an array of at least a dozen beautiful completed vases. Along the opposite wall were boxes all the same size, just big enough to fit one vase each.

Longshot opened one box, revealing the straw on the inside. He took off the top half of the straw, nestled a vase carefully inside the box, replaced the straw, and closed the box again. He propped the back door open and carried the box to a cart waiting just outside. When he reentered, he looked expectantly at Smellerbee and Jet and then at the boxes as if to say, _Well? Are you going to make me do all the work?_ Smellerbee and Jet quickly started following Longshot's lead and within minutes the shelf was empty and the cart full.

Ms. Zhu came through the back door just then and said, "Perfect. Jet, I want you to come with me on my deliveries today so you can familiarize yourself with the town and so I can introduce you to my clients. Longshot and Smellerbee, I want you two stay here. Smellerbee, you can unload and reload the kiln. It finished last night so it should be plenty cool by now. Longshot, I want you to add a white base to everything in the batch." She paused for a moment. "Any questions?" The three Freedom Fighters shook their heads. "Then Jet, you and I will hitch up the ostrich horses. We should return later this afternoon. Good luck."

With that, she and Jet walked outside and shut the door behind them, leaving Smellerbee and Longshot alone.

"Don't laugh at me . . . but I have no idea how to work the kiln," Smellerbee said with wide, pleading eyes. Longshot stared at her for a moment before a wide smile spread across his face.

"Don't you start," Smellerbee laughed, her nerves easing slightly. Longshot shook his head and threw up his hands – _I'm not saying anything . . ._

"Just tell me what to do," Smellerbee said, still half-laughing.

Longshot showed her how to unlock the monstrous kiln's top and opened it for her before he sat down at a worktable with glazes and brushes waiting for him. As Smellerbee brought him the teacups from the kiln, he added an even layer of white glaze to each. She removed all of the two dozen pieces from the shelf and realized with dismay that there was a second shelf underneath, but to get to it she had to remove the first one. She stared at the mass of iron and hardware and tried to figure out how the hell she was supposed to take it out. She didn't want to ask Longshot; her pride wouldn't allow it. After nearly ten minutes of ineffectual staring, however, she had to admit defeat.

"Longshot?" she asked tentatively. "How do I move the shelf?" Longshot smiled wryly at her and went over to the kiln. As she stood back and watched him work, careful to learn exactly what to do so she'd never have to ask again, she said quietly, "I'm not entirely useless. I just never had to do this before." Longshot turned back to look at her, concern in her eyes. _You're not useless._ Smellerbee shrugged. Longshot stood in front of her and put his hands on both of her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. _You're not useless_.

"Okay."

There were a grand total of four shelves of teacups and once Smellerbee had finished unloading them all she sat down at the worktable, across from Longshot.

"What now?" she asked. Longshot pointed to a shelf of dozens of little bowls, glazed white with a variety of floral patterns and in need of a second firing. Smellerbee shot Longshot a dark look but started reloading the kiln nevertheless. As she did so, she realized how much she enjoyed the quiet. After living with the constant activity of the Freedom Fighters and the stress of travel, the calm was a nice change.

Longshot taught Smellerbee how to start the kiln when she'd finished loading everything then had her help him glaze the teacups he was still working on. When done they moved all of the finished teacups to one of the many shelves for partially finished works.

It was around midday and Jet and Ms. Zhu hadn't yet returned. Without any tasks left to them, Longshot and Smellerbee decided it was time for lunch. They went back to their apartment and made a few quick items (rice, fruit salad, and boiled vegetables) and sat down to eat together at the counter.

"I think we got it right this time," Smellerbee said. "I think this is the right place to be." Longshot nodded and almost smiled. "I hope Jet's doing well." Longshot nodded again. _I'm sure he's fine_. "Do you think this is something that can last?" _I hope so_. "I mean the three of us, living like civilians." _Maybe_. Longshot looked a little distant.

"Hey," Smellerbee said quietly. "We'll be okay."

**:–:–:–:**

After lunch, feeling like they should do something productive, Longshot and Smellerbee went back down to the shop with the idea of cleaning it. It bore obvious signs of neglect, probably, Smellerbee thought, because Ms. Zhu ran it by herself. The floor was dusty all over and completely white in some places due to ceramic powder. The shelves were even worse. The jars of glaze flaked the dried residue of their many colored contents. A massive jar held many paintbrushes, all stiff and unusable due to glaze build-up. The massive basin sink in the corner was no better than anything else in the shop. The sides, bottom, and faucet knobs were covered in both glaze and clay. The drain was nearly blocked entirely.

Longshot and Smellerbee looked at each other. _Where do we even start?_

Smellerbee tried to remember what their servants used to do when cleaning.

"Maybe we should dust the shelves first?" Smellerbee suggested. "So if we get dust on the floor, we can sweep it later?" Longshot nodded. He opened a tall cabinet and pulled out two rags, wet them in the sink, and handed one of them to Smellerbee. They each took a different section of shelves and worked from top to bottom, dusting off each piece as well as every inch of shelf space. The rags turned white as they worked. By the time they'd finished, they were both covered in fine layers of dust as well. Smellerbee shook her head and a puff of white rose up form her hair. Longshot smiled slightly and in revenge Smellerbee wrote her name in the dust on his hat.

"I'll scrape out the sink – you can sweep," she said. Longshot nodded in agreement and retrieved a broom and dustpan from the cabinet and started at the far end of the store. Smellerbee stuffed her rag in the sink's drain and filled it with water. She found a big spatula-looking instrument among the different clay tools and figured it would work as well as anything else. She started by scraping out the bottom and the water quickly turned brown as debris floated up. When she thought she'd gotten everything off the bottom she removed the rag and scooped out all the loosened clay and glaze and put it in a cracked jar marked to be thrown away. She did her best to clear out the drain before starting on the deep sides of the sink. Luckily, it wasn't nearly as thick as the bottom had been.

Just as she got the very last of the buildup off – a river of blue glaze in one corner – she sensed Longshot come up behind her. Before she could turn she felt something flutter gently onto her head and the next thing she knew she was caught in a white rainstorm. Longshot grinned widely, his silent laugh, at the shocked expression on Smellerbee's face as she stared at him through the dust.

"You are _dead_!"

Longshot took off running through the shop and Smellerbee chased him down until she had him trapped in a corner. She took her blue glaze-covered hands and smeared the stuff all over Longshot's face. He crumpled to the floor and played dead, his tongue lolling out.

"You get to clean this up," Smellerbee said as she turned away, seeing the trail of white footprints she'd left behind her as well as the dust pile where she'd been standing during Longshot's attack. Smellerbee shook out her hair over the sink and rinsed out the rag so she could use it to remove the dust from her skin and clothes while Longshot cleaned up.

**:–:–:–:**

Just as they finished washing the windows, their last task, Jet and Ms. Zhu returned.

"You cleaned – very nice," Ms. Zhu said, looking around. "I was hoping you'd find something to do after you'd finished glazing and firing." There was a gleam in her eye that made Smellerbee think that she'd intentionally left them alone to test them. And, unless she was much mistaken, they'd passed. "And the ceramics?" Longshot pointed to the shelves they'd filled and the quietly humming kiln. "Well done," Ms. Zhu said. "You two were nearly as productive as we were." Smellerbee saw Jet roll his eyes.

"Jet?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"He made a new friend," Ms. Zhu said dryly, smiling. "Ms. Ashida really took a liking to him, didn't she?"

"Yes," Jet said resignedly.

"She's one of my older clients," Ms. Zhu said. "Very wealthy. She tends to think most things are there for the purposes of her enjoyment. She happens to enjoy looking at Jet." Smellerbee burst out laughing, and even Longshot's lips tightened, as though he was trying to suppress a grin.

"Hilarious," Jet said through gritted teeth. "Longshot, you're coming with me next time." Longshot threw his hands up and looked around the shop. _I have to stay here; you're on your own_. "Smellerbee, save me," Jet begged.


	24. Expectations

Chapter 24: Expectations

"And you'll have to take these to Ms. Ashida," Ms. Zhu said as she and Smellerbee put a final box on the cart. Longshot and Smellerbee both suppressed grins and Jet shot them a look.

"Smellerbee, you can take them in to her," Jet said.

"I can't lift that on my own," Smellerbee said. "It's huge. You're coming with me."

"Fine," Jet said. "But we have to be in and out of there fast."

"She made quite the impression on you, didn't she?" Ms. Zhu said, sounding amused, handing Jet a pouch with change and a list of orders and addresses.

"Let's just go," Jet said, climbing up to sit on the cart. Smellerbee joined him.

"See you when we get back," she called to Longshot who waved, still looking amused by Jet's predicament.

"Is she really that bad?" Smellerbee asked as they turned onto the main road.

"She looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. Like I'm just there for her."

Smellerbee thought of Kohana and how the two of them were always compared. _Why can't you just smile like Kohana? Why can't you dress nice the way she does? Your sister is so pretty, why can't you be more like her?_

"Yeah, well, maybe now you know what it feels like to be a girl," she said softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I heard what you said, just – what?"

"I don't know, it just that . . . people expect you to look and act a certain way and when you don't . . . it's like you're failing them. All they want is for you to look pretty and smile and be . . . what they want."

"Come on, Longshot and I don't –"

"I know," Smellerbee said. "But a lot of people _do_."

"I'm sorry, Smellerbee," Jet said.

"It's okay."

The conversation faded into a silence. Smellerbee couldn't tell if it was awkward or not. She couldn't think of anything interesting or funny to say, so they just stayed silent, until a few minutes later when Jet pointed to a large mansion and said, "That's it."

It was larger and more lavish than even her parents' house. Definitely old money, Smellerbee could tell. The building looked older and more classic than some of the new money mansions (her mother had always felt the need to point it out, as though the fact that she happened to be born rich made her better than other people).

"And it's just . . . her? Does anyone else live with her?"

"Ms. Zhu said her son stays occasionally, but for the most part, it's just her and her servants."

"That's so . . . sad," Smellerbee said.

"I can't feel sorry for someone who has everything," Jet said darkly.

"Money isn't everything," Smellerbee said.

"But it makes everything easier."

"That's not true."

"Come on."

"Money brings you a lot of things you don't want," Smellerbee said, thinking of Chang. She'd often wondered if he'd have been interested in Kohana at all if they'd been poor.

"But it buys you everything you _need_."

"It doesn't make your life perfect, Jet."

"Forget it," he said as they pulled up to the gate.

A servant opened a large golden gate surrounding the property. There was a large and magnificent garden within, complete with fountains and exotic birds strutting around. The road led straight to the front door, but Jet veered right and took a side street.

"What are you doing?" Smellerbee asked.

"Servants' entrance," Jet said simply.

"Oh. Right."

When they got to the back door a young man led them inside as they carried the box between them. They emerged through a small side door concealed behind a tapestry into a grand entryway. There was a massive glittering chandelier hanging from the ceiling and an image of a regal ostrich-horse on the floor in a beautiful mosaic. There were tables everywhere laden with all kinds of beautiful pots overflowing with flowers. They heard a voice ring through the grand room.

"Oh, there you are, my beautiful boy." Ms. Ashida came into view then, walking down a grand staircase towards them. She was wearing a long ornate gown with her hair piled into her head and wound with flowers. She might have been beautiful if she didn't have an overwhelming air of haughty superiority. As she drew nearer she said, "And who is this?"

It took Smellerbee a moment to realize Ms. Ashida was talking about her.

"Oh, my name is Smellerbee," she said, bowing.

"Charming," Ms. Ashida said, not bowing back. She returned her attention to Jet immediately. "Well, dear, what have you brought for me today?" Her eyes ran the length of Jet's body several times as he moved to open the box. _She looks like she wants to eat him_, Smellerbee thought.

"Ms. Zhu has your new set of plates, teacups, and saucers," Jet said, trying to avoid eye contact with Ms. Ashida by digging through the box to find one of each of the objects. "With the panda-lilies."

"Perfect," Ms. Ashida purred. "I finally got a beautiful patch of panda-lilies growing in my garden and I simply _had_ to celebrate the occasion, and I just couldn't do it without matching everything perfectly." Jet smiled and Ms. Ashida preened, but Smellerbee could tell he was biting back a few choice words. He had been right about Smellerbee's sympathy; it had vanished as she realized just how overwhelmingly entitled Ms. Ashida obviously felt to everything, including Jet.

"Of course," he said. "It has been a pleasure to see you again, but we have many more deliveries to make today." Jet bowed and Smellerbee followed suit. Ms. Ashida reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of coins and took Jet's hand in her own before placing the coins in his palm. He put them in a small leather pouch Ms. Zhu had given her and began to count out change.

"Keep it, dear," Ms. Ashida said. She pulled a small bell out of her pocket and rang it. Moments later, two young women emerged from another small servants' door and stood beside her.

"Bring my new plates into the kitchen," she ordered, not taking her eyes off of Jet. "And give these two boys some tea before they leave."

"I'm a girl," Smellerbee said.

Ms. Ashida looked scandalized and Smellerbee felt a strange satisfaction at her distress as she waited for the inevitable apology.

"Well, dear, if you don't want to be mistaken for a boy, perhaps you shouldn't be so intent on looking like one." She turned and walked away, back up the staircase. Smellerbee moved to follow her, fists forming at her sides, but she felt Jet's hand on her arm.

"Don't," he said quietly. Fuming, Smellerbee stayed put. Once Ms. Ashida turned down the hallway at the top of the stairs and vanished from sight, Jet turned to Smellerbee. "I didn't know she as going to be like that." Smellerbee shook him off with a brusque, "Whatever."

Jet turned to the two servants.

"Want any help with this?" he asked.

"It's fine," said one of them, a girl with long dark hair and green eyes. She and her companion, a girl with short hair and brown eyes, took the box and carried it.

"Come with us," said the short-haired girl kindly.

The kitchen was a different world. It was still big and beautiful, like the rest of the home, but it was messy and loud and there were several people moving about, doing different things. Jet and Smellerbee were invited to sit and have some tea, which they accepted.

"She's not good at a lot of things," said the long-haired girl, who introduced herself as Maylin. "But she does pick good tea." The second girl, Ling, poured tea into cups for each of them. As she handed Smellerbee hers she said, "I'm sorry she called you a boy."

"It's okay," Smellerbee said. Nobody had ever apologized for this before, let alone apologized for someone else. "It happens a lot."

Ling continued, "She has a certain way she wants things to be. Especially when it comes to how boys and girls should act."

"Ling," Maylin said softly, a gentle warning. Maylin reached out and squeezed Ling's hand gently. A look passed between them Smellerbee couldn't quite name. Maylin looked up as if she'd momentarily forgotten that Jet and Smellerbee were there. Turning red, she moved away from the table and began washing dishes in one of the many sinks. Ling stayed with them. She looked at Jet.

"She might try to steal you from Ms. Zhu if she can."

"She can't," Jet said forcefully.

"Just warning you," Ling said. "And the pay is pretty good, though nowhere near as good as she could make it if she wanted. Because spirits forbid she not be able to buy a set of plates to match every single flower in her garden." Smellerbee laughed.

They stayed only a few minutes more before heading out to make the rest of their deliveries, but Smellerbee felt a strange desire to return. She liked Ling and Maylin.

"What did I tell you?" Jet said as the carriage left the front gate. "Still feel sorry for her?"

"I still think she's pathetic," Smellerbee said. "But no, I don't feel sorry for her."

**:–:–:–:**

"One more," Jet said, stopping the cart beside a fruit stand across from the ceramic shop. They'd gone all over town and even the ostrich horse was getting tired. This was their final stop of the day. Jet and Smellerbee got off the cart. While Jet went to find the owner of the last box of teacups Smellerbee unloaded it.

"Uh, hello?" Jet called uncertainly.

A voice that seemed to come from beneath the cart squealed, "Oh!" and then a young woman came into view. She was lovely, with long back hair pulled back neatly and simply, with delicate features and dark eyes. She looked at Jet first. "Can I help you?"

Jet stared at her for a moment before he said smoothly, "I'm Jet. This is Smellerbee. We have a delivery from Ms. Zhu."

"Oh!" the girl said again. "Yes, thank you." She stepped forward and took the box from Smellerbee and placed it down behind the counter. She began looking for something, murmuring to herself. "Where did she put the box . . . Oh! Here it is." She pulled out a small box of money and counted out several silver coins and gave them to Jet.

"Thanks . . . ?"

"Suzume," the girl said.

"Thanks, Suzume," Jet said. "See you around."

"Yeah, see you," Suzume said, staring after him as he and Smellerbee got back on the cart and drove off.

"She was articulate," Smellerbee said dully.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh!" Smellerbee said in a high-pitched imitation of the girl. Jet nudged her playfully.

"Leave her alone. She seemed nice."

"Right," Smellerbee said, not sure if she was more bothered by Jet's obvious enchantment with this girl or the fact that it bothered her at all.


	25. Patterns

Chapter 25: Patterns

Over the course of the next week, the three refugees fell into an easy and comfortable pattern working in Ms. Zhu's shop. Smellerbee found herself forgetting details of her life with the Freedom Fighters; they had a regimented daily schedule at the shop and Smellerbee couldn't remember how they used the endless free hours in the forest. She remembered spending a lot of time with Longshot, practicing her slingshot while he fired countless arrows, as well as sitting in the treehouse, listening to Jet's plans, admiring his brilliance.

She struggled to remember the details of her life from before that but came up with very little. Even recalling her mother's face took longer than she'd like to admit to herself. She thought about Kohana and tried to figure out if she'd had Chang's baby yet. Time passed strangely for Smellerbee and she wasn't sure how many weeks or months had gone by. She couldn't believe how different her life was now.

She had been born on silk sheets and now slept on a straw mattress in a tiny apartment with a man on either side of her. The shock of it alone would easily kill her mother.

Smellerbee had even found another girl like herself; Ling had cut her hair even shorter than Smellerbee's, but a condition of her employment was that she "start looking like a girl" again.

"But I AM a girl," Ling said exasperatedly to Smellerbee, obviously glad someone had finally understood. "So this _is _what a girl looks like."

Maylin was very feminine but she understood, and that's what Smellerbee liked about her. She never felt the need to tell Ling or Smellerbee how to act or dress. She and Ling had a dynamic to them Smellerbee loved to watch; they made fun of each other playfully and seemed to read each other's minds almost. Smellerbee had never had female friends before and it was strange and new and wonderful to finally have some, even if their visits were restricted to times when they had to deliver Ms. Ashida's purchases.

As Smellerbee worked she realized even the fact that she had a job would scandalize her mother; Leiko had insisted true ladies should never have to work for a living, but here she was, not only working but learning a trade. Whenever there weren't many deliveries Ms. Zhu had taken to teaching Smellerbee how to make pottery. She was not very good yet, but she enjoyed the learning. There was something satisfying in knowing she was learning how to earn her own money. She also liked working with Ms. Zhu; the woman was demanding but kind and would speak to Smellerbee like an equal rather than a servant. She would give Smellerbee advice and tell personal stories, and slowly Smellerbee built a portrait of Ms. Zhu's life and how she came to be who she was.

What Smellerbee found the most fascinating was that Ms. Zhu had never been married. Smellerbee's mother had always spoken of unmarried women in tones of either disapproval or pity, as if there was something wrong with it. Smellerbee had long since felt marriage wasn't for her, but she'd never actually known a grown woman who wasn't married and seemed fine with it.

"You see, Smellerbee, many men think wives should be a certain way. I am not that way," Ms. Zhu explained once.

"Exactly," Smellerbee said. "I never want to be someone's wife like that. I can't do it."

"You must make the choices that are best for you," Ms. Zhu said. "But be cautious. I said some men are like that. Not all." She glanced up at Longshot who was at the other side of the shop. Smellerbee followed her gaze. "You have found yourself good friends, Smellerbee," Ms. Zhu said. "That is possibly the most important thing any person can do with their life."

**:–:–:–:**

As much as Smellerbee liked their new lives, there was one detail that bothered her, and her name was Suzume. Jet seemed to take any excuse to go see her and speak with her and she seemed to adore Jet. _You don't know anything about him_, Smellerbee often thought. _You don't know who he is or who he's been. You don't know what he's lived through_.

Try as she might to ignore it, she couldn't seem to help but mention Suzume when the three of them were alone together. Mocking her was just too easy. One day in particular as they were making dinner, she seemed to lose her filter.

"Suzume said adding mango to this would make it even better," Jet said, starting to cut one up and add it to the pieces to a rice dish cooking on the stove.

"Suzume also told me that not breathing would improve your life," Smellerbee said.

"Leave her alone, Smellerbee. She's just trying to be nice."

"Oh!" Smellerbee imitated. Even Longshot looked a little bit amused.

"Seriously. Knock it off."

"Does Katara know you're taking cooking tips from other girls?"

"Enough!" Jet was staring at her angrily and even Longshot's face had gone serious.

"Sorry," Smellerbee said sheepishly. She felt her whole face burning. She was certain Jet hated her now. She needed to get out of there. "I left something in the shop," she mumbled, and then she darted downstairs and out the back door into the cool night air. Moments later, Longshot came out after her. His eyes were gentle and concerned. _What's wrong?_

"I don't know," Smellerbee said, exasperatedly. "I don't mean to be like that, it's just . . . I don't know. I can't stop myself."

Longshot looked at her with a little more scrutiny. She wouldn't get off so easily. _Come on_.

"What?"

_You know_.

"I am _not_ jealous." Longshot raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not!"

Longshot didn't buy it. _Then why do you hate Suzume so much?_

"She doesn't know him."

_You don't know_ her.

"I know . . . but I'm just afraid it'll be a Katara thing all over again."

_What do you mean? _

"I think she's part of why Jet fell apart. Why the Freedom Fighters fell apart. I don't want anybody messing up what we have now."

_That was completely different. _

"I know. But I can't help but wonder what will happen if we have to leave. We have a good thing going. I don't want anyone to mess it up." Longshot nodded in understanding. He paused for a moment and then glanced at the apartment. _Let's go back upstairs before Jet starts wondering where we are_.

"I don't think Jet wants me around," Smellerbee said softly, looking away. Longshot reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. _We'll be okay_.


	26. Care

Chapter 26: Care

When the trio went down to the shop the next morning, Ms. Zhu was (as always) already there, preparing for the day. However, she was not preparing in any of the usual ways. She was putting an odd assortment of pottery on a table in the center of the shop and carefully moving some of her most delicate pieces to high shelves, as if she was expecting a flood.

"Good morning," she said to the three of them, not taking her eyes off of an ornate vase she was removing from the display window. "We have a very important day today."

"We do?" Smellerbee asked.

"Yes. The elementary schools have an annual trip around town, visiting various local businesses and learning about different trades."

"So in a few hours this place will be overrun by toddlers?" Smellerbee asked. She did not feel prepared to take on a bunch of children.

"It'll be about an hour and they'll be ages eight to twelve, so not toddlers," Ms. Zhu answered dryly. "I'll worry about talking to them. Longshot, I want you working the wheel so they can see someone in action. Jet and Smellerbee, you'll have to standby and make sure they don't break anything." Smellerbee imagined herself trying to pull a child off the shelves as he climbed.

"How?" she asked.

"Just stand nearby. The more eyes on the children, the less likely they are to be destructive." Smellerbee and. Jet exchanged looks. They hadn't signed on for this.

**:–:–:–:**

The day was long, hectic, and tiring, but they got through it.

The children came through in class groups all day and each time Ms. Zhu would give the same speech and the children would watch in awe as Longshot made a bowl or pitcher or teacup or whatever it was. Smellerbee was surprised he could even concentrate; the kids never seemed to get what being silent meant and were always fidgeting around for no apparent reason. Well, most of them for to reason. One boy ran out the door in what Smellerbee thought was a mad escape attempt until she heard him vomiting. He was quickly escorted home, one of the teachers muttering, "Chicken Vulture virus," under her breath. Other than that, the day went pretty smoothly.

Many of the children did seem genuinely interested in pottery and loved watching Longshot work. They'd gasp and clap and ask him questions that Ms. Zhu would answer for him. Smellerbee and Jet did as they were asked and stood by the shelves, and whenever a bored or mischievous child would wander over, they needed nothing more than a sharp look in order to stop them. Smellerbee was actually feeling quite good, pleased with how the day was going, until shortly after the children left.

They were cleaning up the shop, putting everything back in its rightful place, when Smellerbee started feeling ill. She tried to focus on moving the pottery but her hands were shaking. She sat on the wooden chair by the kiln and held her head in her hands. She felt dizzy and tired and nauseated. She felt Longshot walk up beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. _Are you okay?_

She bolted from the shop and made it out the back door just before she vomited on the ground, over and over again until she felt as though her stomach itself was trying to force its way out through her esophagus. She leaned against the shop wall, breathing heavily. Her nausea, at least, had gone away, though her legs felt shaky and weak. She closed her eyes.

"Come on," Jet's voice said from the doorway. "Let's get you upstairs." Jet and Longshot helped her walk slowly up to their apartment.

The boys helped her get in bed and Longshot moved a bucket beside her.

"I'm feeling better," she told him. "It must have been something I ate."

"We eat all the same things," Jet said. "Wouldn't we be sick, too?" He and Longshot exchanged a look. "That's what I was thinking, but it doesn't really make much sense."

"What?" Smellerbee asked.

"Have you ever had Chicken Vulture virus?" Jet asked.

"What's that?"

Jet and Longshot looked at each other again.

"Come on. Everyone in the Earth Kingdom gets Chicken Vulture virus when they're a kid."

"I didn't," Smellerbee said.

Longshot glanced at Jet and Jet said, "That's right. You never went to school, did you?"

"No, I had a tutor," Smellerbee said uncomfortably. She was starting to feel ill again.

"That's got to be it, then."

"What _is_ Chicken Vulture virus?" she asked.

"That kid today had it. It makes you puke – you know, like how a chicken vulture does when it's threatened? You only get it once, then you're immune to it."

"Okay, so I should be fine, then."

"Well, not quite."

"What does that mean?"

"It usually lasts about . . . what? Twelve hours?" Jet looked to Longshot, who nodded.

"So I'm going to be like this for twelve hours?" Smellerbee demanded. Both boys looked at her and nodded. She groaned and dropped her head back on the pillow. "I don't want to be sick."

**:–:–:–:**

An hour later, Smellerbee was retching again. Jet had left to buy whatever he could find to make her feel better, and Longshot was playing nursemaid, bringing her water and putting cool, damp cloths on her forehead. Despite Longshot's efforts, however, Smellerbee was still in bad shape, feeling steady sicker and sicker as the hour progressed until she finally began vomiting.

As soon as she was finished, she lay back on her bed, a cold sweat covering her entire body.

"I hate this," she said softly. Longshot sat beside her and moved one of the damp cloths across her forehead and neck, wiping away the sweat. He gave her water so she could rinse out her mouth. When she was done she turned away from the bucket and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired," she said softly. She heard Longshot get up and take the bucket out of the apartment and down the stairs. A few minutes later he returned and placed the now-clean bucket beside her and sat down again. Smellerbee's nausea had, once again, faded away, and she was starting to hope they'd made a mistake about how long the virus lasted. Maybe she wouldn't puke again.

But within a half an hour, she knew that the boys had been right, and she was in for a rough night. She was feeling ill again, but not so ill that she was about to retch at any moment. This was the worst part: the buildup.

**:–:–:–:**

When Jet finally returned he came bearing a basket full of random things: crackers, fruits, dried herbs, and honey.

"I got the recipe for some sort of tea thing that's supposed to help," Jet explained as he and Longshot examined Jet's purchases. "Hang on, it's all written down here." He pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to Longshot. The two of them got up and headed towards the kitchen, but not before Longshot nudged the canteen lying in the bed beside Smellerbee. _Keep drinking_. She did as she was told, feeling uncharacteristically docile and compliant. She was reminded of her childhood; whenever she was sick, Chihiro would sit with her and play games or talk with her and wait on her hand and foot. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be cared for.

**:–:–:–:**

Her gentle temperament faded very quickly as she felt steadily sicker. Within another hour, she was vomiting again.

"I didn't think I had anything left inside me," she said when she was done.

"Here, eat some of these," Jet said, giving her a small stack of crackers.

"No," Smellerbee said. "I'm just going to get rid of them in another few hours."

"Drink something, then," Jet said, putting the recently refilled canteen in her hand. She drank some. "More," Jet said. "We can't let you get dehydrated." Smellerbee rolled her eyes and drank the whole thing. Longshot started to refill it while Jet took the bucket outside to rinse it out.

"When's the magic potion that's going to cure me going to be ready?" Smellerbee asked.

"Another half an hour. It's complicated," Jet said.

**:–:–:–:**

By the time it was done, Smellerbee was in the middle of another illness crescendo, waiting impatiently to puke, because that was the only time she actually felt better. Whatever Jet had made tasted awful, but she managed to get down an entire glass of it. It did seem to settle her stomach a little, and the nausea went away until moments before she actually puked. It wasn't a cure, exactly, but it made the illness more bearable.

The night progressed slowly. Smellerbee drank the potion, as she called it, after each puking session. But she was still growing more and more miserable. She was thoroughly exhausted but still couldn't fall asleep. She couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in her bed. She was too cold without the blankets and too hot with them. All she wanted was to be unconscious.

Jet and Longshot worked together, keeping her supplied with water and taking turns washing out her bucket. They reminded her to drink and tried as best as they could to get her to eat something. However, even they started to show signs of fatigue as the night progressed. Just after midnight, after one of Smellerbee's episodes, Jet finally lay down to sleep at Longshot's insistence. Longshot sat beside Smellerbee's bed as she lay there, staring at the ceiling.

"I just want this to be over," she murmured quietly. She was nearly crying, feeling more exhausted than she ever had before. Longshot ran his cool hand alongside her face. She reached up and held it in her own.

"Thank you," she said softly, turning to face him. Longshot nodded. He looked so sad, like he wished he could take her place.

Smellerbee felt nearly delirious and heard herself say softly, "You're so good, Longshot. You're so good. I don't know why. But you are." She squeezed his hand gently. "I'm so tired," she said, and her hand fell from his. "I just want to sleep," she murmured. "I just want to sleep." He nodded. _I know_.

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee had her final episode around two in the morning, and immediately afterwards, she felt inexplicably energized. She sat up in bed and spoke animatedly, though quietly. Longshot smiled at her, but she saw the dark circles around his eyes and told him he should go to sleep. He only did so when he was certain Smellerbee would do the same.

As she drifted to sleep Smellerbee thought that with all the poor choices she'd made in her life, she had, at least, picked the right friends.


	27. Pride

Chapter 27: Pride

Smellerbee awoke the next day without any idea of what time it was or how long she'd been sleeping. She sat up and felt like every part of her body from her throat to her stomach was on fire. She fell back against her bed, gasping in pain. She heard footsteps and saw Longshot coming through the door, rushing to her side.

_Are you okay?_

"Yeah, I just – it hurts. Everywhere." Longshot looked concerned. "No, everything else feels better, but it aches from puking all yesterday." She tried to sit up to show him how okay she was, but pain tore through her again and she dropped back down. "If I could move, I'd be just fine," she said, laughing. Longshot's mouth twitched into his almost-smile and he nodded. _That's good_. He overturned the (still clean) bucket beside her. He put crackers and an apple on top of it, and then refilled her canteen. He looked at her expectantly.

"I'm afraid to eat," Smellerbee admitted. "I don't want to start again." Longshot shook his head. _You won't_. "I promise I'll eat them," Smellerbee said. "Just not right now." Longshot surveyed her for a moment, nodded, then headed for the door, presumably heading back to work. He opened it and paused to look back at her. _I'll be downstairs if you need me_. Smellerbee nodded and Longshot shut the door behind him. Smellerbee reached over to the makeshift table and picked up the canteen and drank about half of it. She also managed to eat three crackers before she felt full. Bored and immobile, she fell back to sleep.

**:–:–:–:**

When Jet and Longshot returned to the apartment for lunch, they found Smellerbee sitting up in bed, polishing her daggers.

"Get into a fight?" Jet asked, amused.

"Nope. Just got really bored," Smellerbee answered.

"Good to see you're feeling better," Jet said. "Still in pain?"

"Oh yeah," Smellerbee said, nodding. "It took me about an hour to sit up properly, and now I really don't want to move."

"Have you not gotten out of bed yet?"

"Nope."

"Not even to go to the bathroom?"

"I've thrown everything up. There's no need."

"Right."

Longshot looked at her and at the empty bedside table.

"Yeah, I ate it. All of it," Smellerbee said. Longshot nodded, then moved into the kitchen. "But I'm not hungry anymore!" Smellerbee shouted after him.

"Well, we are," Jet said. "And I get the feeling he's going to make you eat anyway."

"I know," Smellerbee said as Jet picked up her canteen to refill it. As Jet handed it back he told her, "I got a recipe for a tea thing that's supposed to help you with the pain."

"You did?"

"Yeah. You want to try it?"

"Yes!" Smellerbee said, grateful.

Jet made the tea while Longshot made lunch and Smellerbee made herself walk over to the counter to sit with them. She drank Jet's tea and could almost feel her muscles relaxing.

"This is really good," she said, somewhat surprised. "Where are you getting all these potions?" Jet and Longshot exchanged looks. "What?"

"Suzume. She wants to be a doctor," Jet answered.

Smellerbee stared down at her tea. She didn't want any help from Suzume, but she also wanted to be able to move again.

Longshot pushed the cup towards Smellerbee slightly and looked at her sternly. She couldn't help but smile. She drank the rest of her tea and even consented to have a second cup. She mostly just watched Jet and Longshot eat, but with a little coaxing she ate a few raw vegetables. The boys went back to work and Smellerbee hung around the apartment, still bored and almost annoyed that the pain actually did subside after drinking Suzume's tea.

**:–:–:–:**

The next day was their day off, and Smellerbee, though still fatigued from illness and lack of food, was itching to use it to leave the apartment. Since they received their first wages, they decided to go out to the market.

They wandered the streets and looked more than they actually bought, but just having the freedom to walk around in public without the fear of the Fire Nation was something new and wonderful.

They went to the food market last, and while Jet and Longshot were looking at bread Smellerbee wandered over to Suzume's fruit stand. She felt she owed Suzume at least a "thank you". She was nervous, though, because she didn't know how to act around her and was strangely worried that the girl hated her. Instead, as she approached, Suzume said brightly, "Smellerbee! I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"Yeah, I am," Smellerbee said. "Whatever it was you had Jet make it really worked."

"Oh, good. I'm glad."

"How did you know about those . . . tea things?" Smellerbee asked.

"Oh! I made them. I have three little brothers who all got that virus and over time I just sot of figured them out. I'm trying to learn about medicine. I want to be a doctor."

"Yeah, Jet said," Smellerbee. "That's really good." Against her own will, Smellerbee was starting to like Suzume. She was obviously smart, if she created those cures herself. And she wanted to be a doctor – that was useful. Smellerbee had assumed that Suzume was like her sister and had no interest in anything other than flirting.

"How are Longshot and Jet?" Suzume asked.

"They're fine. In fact – here they are," Smellerbee said as they approached.

Suzume greeted the boys and Jet began speaking to her while Longshot glanced between the two girls. His eyes held a question. _Were you talking to her?_

Smellerbee nodded.

_Why?_

She shrugged_. I don't know . . . she helped me get better_. _ I thought I should thank her_.

Longshot looked pleasantly surprised.


	28. Friends

Chapter 28: Friends

Over the next few days, Smellerbee's aches and pains went away and she was able to eat more and even start working again. She could tell that Jet and Longshot were keeping a closer eye on her, making sure she was okay. She knew that just a few months ago, it would have annoyed her; she would have thought it meant they thought she was weak. But now, she knew better. It meant she was cared for.

Weeks slipped by. Smellerbee often wondered if their new routine reflected what it was like to be normal. She didn't have to go to etiquette lessons or grand balls as she had as Mori the Rich Young Lady, nor did she have to spy on the Fire Nation and scavenge for food as she did when Smellerbee the Freedom Fighter, a child of the trees. Now, she worked each day with Longshot and Jet and the evenings were theirs, owed to no greater good, no ill-fitting role Smellerbee was supposed to play.

Instead, their weapons and armor at in an inconspicuous corner of their house, as they had learned by then they were of no use in town. They would shop at the farmers' market together and Longshot taught both Jet and Smellerbee how to cook. Smellerbee asked him on more than one occasion how he learned to cook so well, but he'd just shrug, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Smellerbee would laugh and roll her eyes and study closely as he chopped vegetables or turned over roasting meat in a skillet.

Sometimes they would go out to wander around the city or hike in the surrounding mountains or eat dinner at restaurants with Ling, Maylin, and Suzume. The six of them could talk for hours, laughing and joking. The three new girls had even started to learn Longshot's language; they could gauge his glances and perceive the minor movements of his eyes that told them what he was thinking and feeling. To Smellerbee, their unquestioning acceptance of Longshot's wordlessness meant the world, and although she had been guarded when the girls had first joined them, she found she now enjoyed their presence.

Smellerbee liked Ling and Maylin in particular; seeing two so very different girls and the closeness they shared gave Smellerbee new and unfamiliar perspectives of the world. One evening Maylin was talking about a salon she'd like to open someday. Smellerbee had expected the conversation to be dull and vapid, but something in the passionate way Maylin spoke made her listen.

"The thing is, there are certain therapeutic earthbending techniques you can use for massages and spa treatments but none of the salons in town use them. But I know them all, I can do them –"

"Yeah, because I let you use me as a training tool," Ling said. Maylin rolled her eyes and continued.

"But it's a brilliant business model! Everyone knows the Fire Nation hates earthbenders; they think we're all uncultured brutes. What a better way to prove them wrong than to start a line of salons where earthbending is refined into a delicate healing art?"

Smellerbee stared at Maylin. Smellerbee's mother had spent so much of her time at salons. It was where she met people, got news . . . Smellerbee had thought the women who ran the shops were empty-headed gossips. But as she listened to Maylin as she discussed setup and how she'd interact with her clients, she realized that Maylin had a keen business sense. She thought of the shop owners her mother would discuss in such glowing tones and realized that if they could so consistently keep her mother – her spoiled, fussy mother – happy, they had to be brilliant.

Suzume chimed in, discussing the medical practice she'd like to open someday and she and Maylin decided they'd open a place together. A complete wellness center for the body and mind. Ling made sarcastic comments, but Smellerbee could see the way she was looking at Maylin. Like she could listen forever and wouldn't mind working in Maylin's wellness center, as long as she got to be with her. Smellerbee smiled as Ling's fingers entwined with Maylin's. The girls were comfortable enough now with the other four; they felt no need to hide. Their honesty with themselves and the others filled Smellerbee with hope that maybe being a different sort of girl – one so unlike her mother had groomed her to be – was okay.

But then she glanced over at Jet and saw that he was giving Suzume a look dangerously close to the one Ling was giving Maylin, and her smile faded. She saw Jet's hand move to play with Suzume's hair, as if it was something unconscious and natural. Something familiar and sure. And suddenly Smellerbee felt like something had been taken from her. She felt deep in her gut that because Jet looked at Suzume like that, he'd never look at Smellerbee in the same way. She became painfully aware of all of her flaws.

She felt Longshot's foot touch hers and looked up. Of course he had noticed her slipping away. _Are you okay?_ Smellerbee shook her head to say _it's nothing. I'm fine_. She smiled and tried to be interested in the conversation. She tried to ignore the way Jet and Suzume seemed to be inching closer and closer together as the night went on. That was really the only thing Smellerbee could bring herself to dislike about Suzume. The way Jet obviously felt about the girl.

Other than that, Suzume was simply _likable_. She was friendly and kind and very smart. Smellerbee wished she wasn't. It had been easy to hate Katara and her preachy naïveté and to place the blame for Jet's infatuation squarely on his shoulders. But now, with Suzume, Smellerbee found herself constantly finding new ways in which she fell short of Suzume's standard, wondering how her life would be different if she could meet it. If she was a little bit quicker to laugh like Suzume, if she had the girl's charming smile, if she had her soft hands, if she was prettier, maybe . . . Smellerbee tried very hard to silence that little voice, but the more time Suzume spent with them, the more difficult it got.

However, Smellerbee did have to be grateful to Suzume for at least one thing: the change she brought in Jet. He seemed happier now, less prone to hours of solemn solitude; with the Freedom Fighters, he'd vanish for two or three hours at a time, plotting and scheming. His dark eyes were always marked by suspicion, quick to judge and even quicker to fight. Now, however, he smiled more, laughed louder, and almost never mentioned the Fire Nation at all. It was like he was a new person; he had all of the old Jet's charm, of course, but the anger had faded away. Smellerbee was surprised by how much she liked this new Jet, no so much because he was inherently better, but because he seemed so much freer.

Longshot, too, had started to relax and open up more. He wouldn't speak, of course, but he was more likely to give Smellerbee his almost-smile, to engage her in water fights while bent over the sink making dinner, to mock the annoying customers who sometimes came into their shop. The melancholy looks Smellerbee had caught on his face on more than one occasion became fewer, less frequent. She had long since known that his past haunted him, though she didn't know quite what had happened (other than that the Fire Nation had destroyed his village), but now those ghosts seemed to bother him less and less.

Smellerbee found herself wondering how she had changed. Watching Longshot and Jet, she wondered if they ever sat back and thought, _Yes, Smellerbee seems happier now. Brighter. More cheerful. Not so burdened with the past_. She felt that way.

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee, Longshot, and Jet had been living in their new town for nearly three months when the whispers began. Rumors of the Fire Nation headed their way, that soon their town would be occupied, too. The three of them had an unspoken agreement not to bring it up. It was too horrible to think about. And anyway, they were only rumors.

All the same, Smellerbee lay away some nights, wondering what would happen to them. Not just to her, Longshot, and Jet, but to Suzume and Ling and Maylin. Where would they go? What would they do? She thought of Chang, how he'd picked her sister for his own. She wondered if that would happen to Suzume. She felt ill thinking about it. Not only because she liked the girl and didn't want anything so horrible to happen to her, but also because she knew what it would do to Jet. She had seen Jet broken once and she wasn't sure she could handle seeing it again.

She knew, deep down, that if the Fire Nation arrived on their doorstep, it would destroy them all.

These moments of darkness and fear, however, were outweighed by far by bright, sunny days spent with her friends. The war felt a distant, bad memory, for the most part, and Smellerbee found that more often than not, any bad feelings she had did not come from fear of Fire Nation soldiers, but from Jet's increasing enchantment with Suzume.

One evening Longshot and Smellerbee were sitting on the step outside the side door into the shop, peeling carrots. It was a warm and pleasant evening and Longshot had suggested moving them outside since it seemed a shame to waste the long days by spending any more time indoors than they had to.

Jet had been sent to the fruit stand and of course the task was taking much longer than it needed to because Suzume was working. From their perch, Longshot and Smellerbee could see the two talking and laughing, though neither seemed to notice they had an audience. Smellerbee tried to care only that they made each other happy, but Longshot caught her staring a bit too long.

_What?_

"It's nothing," Smellerbee said, staring determinately down at the carrot in her hand.

_Come on._

She glanced back up. Jet had leaned forward over the stand and was kissing Suzume gently on the mouth. It was the first time Smellerbee had seen them kiss, but she could tell by their movements that this was familiar to them. It ached to watch them and she wished it wouldn't. She knew that Jet cared for her deeply, but not in the same way as he cared for Suzume, and that was the problem.

"It's just . . . sometimes, I think that Suzume is the kind of girl who gets to have that in her life, you know? And I'm . . ." she looked down at her rough hands, resting on her knobby knees. ". . . not."

Longshot looked slightly puzzled. _What do you mean?_

"The way Jet looks at her? I don't think that's going to happen for me. I don't think . . . I think maybe girls like me, we don't get to get looked at like that."

_What do you mean girls like you?_

"I don't know," she said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

_But Maylin loves Ling –_

"That's not what I mean," she said. "Not exactly, at least." She searched for the words. _ I don't mean just girls who dress like boys_, she thought_. I mean . . . girls who carry the guilt of leaving their families with them. Girls who run instead of fight. Girls who are broken. Girls like me_. She said nothing, though. Longshot glanced over at Jet and Suzume and then back to Smellerbee.

_Are you jealous?_ He wasn't mocking her; he was worried.

"No, not really," Smellerbee lied. "I just wonder sometimes what it would be like, you know? To be – to be –" she almost said _loved_, but couldn't bring herself to do it. "Kissed like that," she finished.

_You've never been kissed?_ Longshot was still looking at her. She rolled her eyes.

"Trust me, if you'd seen my sister, you'd get it. Nobody was exactly lining up to win my hand," she said. It had never bothered her. Never, until she met Jet. But she didn't want Longshot to know that. She avoided his eyes.

He leaned back slightly, eyes on Smellerbee, as if surveying her. Then, he looked away. This caught Smellerbee's attention. Usually when he wanted information from her, he'd stare her down. Why was he looking away now? Smellerbee had been sure he'd press the issue. In a way, she'd been counting on it. She looked at him. He glanced at her, a slight blush coloring his pale cheek.

_Me, neither._

"So, I guess we can both be losers together, then," Smellerbee said with a laugh, though there was no honesty in it. She looked over at Jet, who was kissing Suzume again. "Maybe it's better to not know what we're missing," she said, turning away, towards Longshot. She didn't want to see it again.

Longshot shrugged, not meeting her eyes. _Or . . ._

"Or what?" Smellerbee asked, looking at him.

He looked up and shrugged once more. It was the tiniest of movements. It betrayed Longshot's insecurity. But Smellerbee nodded. She moved closer. So did he. He brought one hand up to rest on the side of her face. They leaned in and then –

Longshot's lips were soft and gentle on Smellerbee's. His hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers weaving into her hair.

Just as quickly as it had started, the kiss ended. Longshot pulled away and the two separated, looking embarrassedly away from each other.

"I guess _that's_ what we're missing," Smellerbee said at long last. Longshot nodded, not looking at her, his face still slightly flushed. "We, uh, we should probably go upstairs . . . the water must be about to boil," she said, standing up, brushing the remnants of the carrot peels from her lap.

"Hey," a voice called from across the street. Jet was approaching. "I got a mango, just like you said," Jet said, looking at Longshot, who nodded. Smellerbee looked at him. His face betrayed no emotion. Jet clearly hadn't seen the kiss, and Smellerbee felt no need to inform him of it.

The three went upstairs and Longshot and Smellerbee carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

But as Smellerbee tried to fall asleep that night, she found herself recreating the kiss, wishing it could have lasted longer, even wishing for another one.

She wasn't used to that.


	29. Shadows

Chapter 29: Shadows

It wasn't long before the whispered rumors of the Fire Nation's approach became actual news. Villages miles and miles away that had previously been unoccupied reported troops moving through. The Fire Nation's approach was all anyone in Longshot, Smellerbee, and Jet's adopted could talk about. Some people said the Fire Nation would skip them entirely. Others said occupation was certain. Still others insisted that they would pass through, nothing more.

For a long time, Smellerbee, Longshot, and Jet refused to speak of it, even with each other. Smellerbee was the first to break the taboo.

"If they come . . . what are we going to do?" she asked one night as the three lay on their straw mattresses, moonlight falling across their faces.

For several minutes, there was no response from either of them, and Smellerbee thought that maybe they were asleep. She glanced to either side. Longshot was looking at her, at a loss. Jet, however, was staring up at the ceiling, clearly thinking hard.

"We're going to stay," he said finally.

"Stay?" Smellerbee asked. She and Longshot exchanged an uneasy look.

Jet turned, propping himself up on his elbow.

"We've been running for a long time. Before the Freedom Fighters, even . . . No matter how hard we fight, we end up running," he said, looking at Longshot. Smellerbee stared at Jet. His eyes were dark and serious. "Maybe the best way to deal with them is to survive them. To not let them take control of our lives. Because that's what they do – every time we run, they take a little more control over us. If we don't let them push us out, _we_ stay in control this time."

Smellerbee looked back at Longshot, who was staring without seeing, lost in thought.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Smellerbee asked tentatively.

"I'm tired of running, Smellerbee," Jet said. "We have something good here. I don't want to lose it."

That decision made, the three tried not to think of it as the week progressed. Smellerbee kept hoping that by some miracle the Avatar would defeat the Fire Lord before they had to put their fortitude to the test, and she couldn't help but hate herself a little for it.

**:–:–:–:**

Towards the end of the week, Smellerbee found herself on the mountain with Jet, digging for clay. As they piled everything they'd dug up on the cart, Smellerbee got a good look at the valley below. It looked just as beautiful as she had since the first time she'd seen it. She half-expected to see plumes of smoke rising amidst the trees and flags bearing the Fire Nation insignia marching up the path towards their ceramic shop.

"Come on, Smellerbee," Jet said, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her back to the cart. "We've got to get back."

"Jet, I don't want the Fire Nation to find us here," Smellerbee said, aware of how childish she sounded. But she didn't care. It was a truth she'd been holding back for a long time.

"They won't be looking for us here. We're new people."

"Are we, though?" Smellerbee asked, looking up at Jet. "Every time I think I'm someone new . . . my past catches up."

"Smellerbee, we've got lives here. We can't just walk out."

"You were going to walk out on the Freedom Fighters," Smellerbee reminded him.

"Yeah, and look how that turned out," Jet said with a laugh. "No, look," he added, seeing Smellerbee's hurt look. "I mean that running doesn't work. You guys came with me. And I'm grateful for that. And I'm glad we found this place and these people, but I'm done running. If we stay here, if we wait them out, we'll make it through."

Smellerbee stared at him. He sounded so sure. So hopeful. She hadn't heard that sort of innocent optimism from him before, and it filled her with the inexplicable urge to lean up and kiss him, the way she had kissed Longshot. For a split second, she thought she might actually do it.

Instead, she stepped back.

"Okay," she said, looking down at the ground, hoping Jet hadn't seen her desire reflected in her eyes

"Hey, Smellerbee," Jet said, reaching out and lifting her chin so she was looking at him. "We're going to be all right." Smellerbee nodded. Jet smiled. "Let's get back to the shop," he said. Smellerbee looked back at the valley, still beautiful and green, one last time before she followed Jet down the path, back to the village.

As much as she tried to let Jet's confidence bolster her own, she couldn't help but worry.

**:–:–:–:**

"Are either of you going to tell me what's wrong, or will I have to guess?" Ms. Zhu asked one day as Longshot and Smellerbee worked silently in the shop, more subdued than usual. They had just received news the previous night that the Fire Nation had begun quartering soldiers in a village only ten miles away. Longshot and Smellerbee looked at each other for a moment before Smellerbee answered.

"It's just . . . the Fire Nation is getting closer. And we think they might come here," she said. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. But she couldn't very well add _Also, I am actually a rich runaway from the crazed general who took over my town and married my sister and then I met Jet and Longshot and all three of us were in the gang the Fire Nation wanted caught more than any other, so we're mildly terrified they'll kill us for that if they figure out who we are_.

"I see," Ms. Zhu said. "And if they do?"

"I . . . I mean, that would be bad, wouldn't it?" Smellerbee said, confused by Ms. Zhu's response.

"Yes, it would," Ms, Zhu said, appearing slightly amused. "But what will you three do if they occupy the town?"

"Well, we figured we'd stay . . . see what happened."

"So then why are you worried?" Ms. Zhu asked. "Three innocent refugees . . . if you keep your heads down and continue your work, what do you have to fear?" She was looking at them, waiting for their reaction.

"You're right," Smellerbee said, not meeting Ms. Zhu's eye. "We're just getting worried about nothing."

"Mmhmm," Ms. Zhu said. Smellerbee could tell she knew they weren't telling her everything.

**:–:–:–:**

That evening, the three refugees went to their favorite place for dinner, a bar and restaurant called The Sparrowkeet, where they found Ling looking grave while Suzume and Maylin spoke to her in hushed tones.

"What's wrong?" Smellerbee asked, sitting beside Maylin at their usual booth.

Ling just shook her head, staring blankly forward.

"She got a letter from her cousin – he lives about ten miles from here –"

"His mother – my aunt – got arrested," Ling said, her voice empty of emotion. It was as though she was in shock. "For refusing to allow soldiers in their house. And they told her she'd have nowhere to run. They want this entire region. They're going to take everything."

"Ling, I'm so sorry," Jet said, but he was looking at Longshot and Smellerbee.

"Does that mean . . . they're coming _here_?" Smellerbee asked, her voice small.

Ling nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.

"We'll be okay," Suzume said soothingly. "The Avatar will take care of the Fire Lord and we'll all be okay. We just have to make it through."

Unconsciously, Smellerbee shook her head, Ling's words still echoing in her mind. _They're going to take everything_.

"Suzume's right," Jet said firmly. "All we have to do is survive." Smellerbee looked at him. The determination in his voice did not match the doubt in his eyes. She watched as he put his hand on Suzume's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She wondered if Jet had told her about who he really was. About what was really at stake if the Fire Nation showed up on their doorstep. And in that moment, Smellerbee hated Suzume for giving Jet a reason to keep them there even though they were risking their lives to do so. Because of Suzume, Jet no longer belonged to just her and Longshot.

"How long until they get here?" Maylin asked. Her eyes hadn't left Ling's face for the entirety of the conversation.

"I don't know," Ling said. "A few days. Maybe."

Longshot looked at Smellerbee, his eyes wide. _A few days?_


	30. Hold

Chapter 30: Hold

Ling was right. Within three days, Longshot, Smellerbee, and Jet were standing in Ms. Zhu's shop, watching through the window as troops marched up the main road. The three said nothing to each other as they stared.

Smellerbee glanced down and saw that Longshot's hands were shaking slightly as they hung by his side. She reached down and took one of his hands in hers to steady him. He nodded his head slightly. _Thank you_.

"We don't have anything to worry about yet," Jet said, eyes narrowed as he glared at the soldiers.

"So what do we do?" Smellerbee asked.

"We hold our ground."

**:–:–:–:**

The changes came slowly at first. The soldiers moved into the rooms at the local inn and sometimes they could be seen at the markets, but other than that, the soldiers' lives and the refugees' were separate. Some days, they could even pretend long enough to trick themselves into thinking all was as it had been before.

But as the soldiers got more comfortable in town, they started showing up elsewhere, invading the refugees' lives in infinite little ways. They'd see off-duty soldiers in their favorite shops and restaurants, reminding them that these places were no longer theirs. Each time Smellerbee encountered a soldier she would keep her head down and eyes averted, trying to pretend she didn't see them. But with each passing day, they got harder and harder to ignore.

"Who's that?" Jet asked one day as they stepped outside the front door of the shop. Smellerbee looked up to see a young man talking to Suzume. She was laughing nervously and looked relieved when she noticed them approaching.

"I think he's a soldier," Smellerbee said. "His clothes – they look like what the soldiers wear when they're off-duty."

But Jet wasn't listening.

"Suzume," he said as they approached. "Who's your new friend?" Jet stood face-to-face with the soldier, who was smirking nastily.

"So, Suzume, is this your boyfriend?" he asked. "Doesn't look like much," he added, looking Jet up and down disdainfully.

"And you are?" Jet asked.

"Your replacement."

Smellerbee and Longshot both grabbed Jet's arms just as he moved to attack the soldier. The soldier laughed as Suzume shrieked, "Jet!" and Smellerbee murmured, "Keep it together. You don't want to get into this."

"I'd suggest you listen to your little friend," the soldier said, still laughing. Then he turned to Suzume and said, "I expect I'll be seeing more of you. Until later, then." He walked away. Jet fought Longshot and Smellerbee, trying to go after him. But they held firm.

"What the hell was that?" Jet demanded of Suzume, who looked bewildered and hurt.

"He started talking to me – there wasn't anything I could do," she said helplessly.

"Jet, this isn't her fault," Smellerbee said. "The soldiers know they can do whatever they want."

Jet took a few deep breaths. The anger faded from his eyes.

"You're right," he said, defeated. And then, quietly, "I'm sorry."

For the rest of the evening, Smellerbee could tell that Suzume was walking on eggshells around Jet. She was clearly shaken by the change that had overcome him in that moment. She had never seen him angry, territorial, or combative. Smellerbee and Longshot, on the other hand, were used to it. And since the Fire Nation arrived, they had been waiting for that side of Jet to resurface.

That night, after Jet fell asleep, Smellerbee turned towards Longshot, who was still lying awake.

"What's going to happen to us?" Smellerbee whispered.

_I don't know_.

"What if Jet freaks out again? We can't always be there to hold him back . . ."

_I know_.

"It's only a matter of time, isn't it?" Smellerbee said, so quietly she was surprised Longshot could hear her at all, but he nodded gravely.

**:–:–:–:**

The soldiers had been in town a full two weeks before any appeared in Ms. Zhu's shop. Ms. Zhu was in her apartment, working on paperwork, calculating how much of which color glazes she'd need to buy for the upcoming year. Smellerbee was working the cash register and answering customers' questions while Longshot worked on a set of vases at the wheel. Jet was out making deliveries.

It was a slow day and there hadn't been more than one or two people in the shop at a time until a group of four soldiers came in, laughing and talking loudly. Smellerbee felt her heartbeat pick up speed and sweat starting to creep up under her arms and on the back of her neck. She couldn't just ignore or avoid them now. She'd have to wait it out.

Luckily, the soldiers mostly ignored her as they looked around. They seemed bored more than anything else, like they were just trying to kill a little time. Smellerbee glanced over at Longshot and she could see him glaring at the lump of clay he was working on the wheel. He wasn't making much progress, though. He could normally make vases in a matter of minutes, but he kept messing this one up, pushing too hard on the clay so it ripped apart, or else accidentally knocking it off of the wheel entirely so he had to start from scratch. Smellerbee could sense his tension.

After a few minutes, the soldiers left without so much as a word or a glance at Longshot and Smellerbee. Smellerbee breathed a sigh of relief and Longshot took his foot of the wheel's pedal and leaned back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Hey," Smellerbee said. "We're okay." Longshot nodded but didn't open his eyes. "They were just bored, it had nothing to do with us," she said. Longshot nodded again. But why wouldn't he look at her? "If they come in here again, we can –" Longshot finally opened his eyes and turned to Smellerbee. He looked close to tears.

_Please, don't._

**:–:–:–:**

Smellerbee didn't mention the soldiers' appearance or their effect on Longshot to Jet that night, and Longshot was behaving as if nothing unusual had happened, so she kept her mouth shut and listened as Jet complained about Ms. Ashida's ramblings and unsolicited flirtations.

Smellerbee wondered if maybe she was making too big a deal out of nothing, that maybe she had imagined the pain on Longshot's face as he looked at her following the soldiers' departure, until late that night.

She wasn't sure exactly why she woke up, but as soon as her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she realized that Longshot was thrashing back and forth in his bed, kicking his legs and reaching out desperately for something unseen. The frame of his bed, which was slightly uneven, was rocking back and forth, making a dull clunking sound on the floor. Smellerbee got out of her bed and crouched beside Longshot's.

"Wake up," she hissed, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't disturb Jet. "Longshot, wake up!" She put a hand on his shoulder and his eyes opened suddenly and he sat up, looking wildly around, breathing heavily. "It's okay," Smellerbee said, seeing the terrified look in Longshot's eyes. "You're safe. It's okay." Longshot shook his head at her words but didn't meet her eyes. "Longshot, look at me," she said, trying to focus him on something other than his fear. He looked and it seemed to take him a moment to realize who she was. When he did, he gasped and without warning, he pulled her to him in a tight hug, one hand stroking her hair as he buried his face in her neck. Smellerbee patted him on the back awkwardly, not knowing what to do. His shoulders were shaking slightly and she realized he was crying. He pulled back and looked at her, putting one hand on the side of her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

_I thought you were gone . . . I thought the soldiers had . . . that you were . . ._

"I'm okay," Smellerbee whispered. "I'm right here." Longshot nodded. "It was jut a nightmare," Smellerbee said. "You can go back to sleep now. Everything's okay." Longshot nodded one more and released Smellerbee. She could tell that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.

**:–:–:–:**

Nothing in Longshot's face told Smellerbee he remembered what had happened the night before, so she had to assume he had forgotten it. However, each time the shop door opened he looked up, his eyes wide and terrified as those of a startled antelope-elk. Upon seeing that it wasn't the group of soldiers again, he'd relax and return to work. Smellerbee watched all of this, concerned. The Longshot she had gotten to know before the soldiers arrived, open and almost carefree, had vanished. Smellerbee could sense him closing himself off, growing more sullen and reticent with each day, even with her.

She tried to pull him out of it; she teased him, brought up some of their old jokes, tried to distract him whenever she saw him slipping into a spell of depression, but nothing seemed to help. In fact, the more she tried to reach him, the more withdrawn he became. She was afraid that she'd soon lose him completely.

**:–:–:–:**

"Jet, we need to get out of here," Smellerbee said one day as she and Jet drove the cart around town, making deliveries.

"We're fine, Smellerbee," Jet said. "Nobody knows who we are. They're not going to –"

"It's not that," she said. "I'm worried about Longshot. Ever since the soldiers came around, he's been different –"

"He's just worried. Like you."

"I don't think that's it," Smellerbee said.

"If he wanted to leave, he'd let us know," Jet said, keeping his focus on the road ahead, not looking at her. "Until then, we're staying put. We have good jobs, an apartment –"

"A girlfriend," Smellerbee snarled under her breath. Jet heard her. He yanked back on the ostrich horse's reins so the beast stopped short with a cry of surprise. Jet stared at Smellerbee, his eyes angry but his voice controlled.

"You think this is about Suzume? You think I'd compromise our safety – _all _of our safety – just because I want to stay near her?" Smellerbee said nothing but started to feel slightly ill. She wished she hadn't said anything. "You think I'm being stupid because of a girl? That I haven't thought this out? Do you think that I don't hate being around the soldiers as much as you and Longshot do?" Smellerbee looked away. "The Fire Nation killed my parents, Smellerbee," he said, his voice going quiet. "Don't forget that."

"I didn't forget," Smellerbee mumbled.

"I know you're just worried about Longshot," Jet said, his anger tempered. "But we've all been through worse, and we'll all make it through this war."

"If you say so," Smellerbee said, but she wasn't convinced. Jet must've heard the doubt in her voice because he said, "I promise, Smellerbee, we'll all be fine."

"Okay," she said, hoping, rather than believing, he was right.


	31. Threat

Chapter 31: Threat

For several days after Jet's promise to Smellerbee, the three refugees managed to avoid the soldiers entirely. But when they went to the Sparrowkeet one evening, there was a group of soldiers sitting at the bar, right beside their usual booth. The three froze in the doorway momentarily before Smellerbee said, "Come on," and led them to a table at the other side of the restaurant. Jet and Longshot sat down while Smellerbee went to the bar to order their food. They managed to relax and were eventually joined by Suzume, Ling, and Maylin, who provided welcome distractions from the soldiers' presence. The six friends talked for a long time before Ling and Maylin decided that they needed to get back to Ms. Ashida's house.

"She's having guests over tomorrow night, which means we have to get up ridiculously early and clean _everything_, even though it's all already clean," Ling said, rolling her eyes. She and Maylin said their goodbyes and their see-you-tomorrows and left. Not long after that, Suzume said that she, too, had better get home soon, and Jet offered to walk with her. Smellerbee tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy that she felt watching them walk out the door together.

Longshot looked at her. _He'll be right back._

"I know," Smellerbee sighed. "I just . . . I miss the days when it was just the three of us, you know?"

Longshot nodded. For several minutes, they sat in silence. Longshot got up and glanced towards the restrooms, which were located on the other side of the place, and necessitated walking directly past the soldiers, who were still there. They'd been drinking steadily all night, getting just a little bit louder and more raucous with each round. Longshot glanced back at Smellerbee and raised his eyebrows. _Wish me luck_. Smellerbee laughed.

She was watching the door for Jet's reappearance and at first she didn't notice the soldiers talking to Longshot as he tried to pass them. Moments later she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and looked up to see one of the soldiers pushing Longshot, saying, "I didn't hear _excuse me._"

Longshot lifted his head slightly, allowing the soldier to see his eyes. There was a dark, loathing look. Smellerbee was startled – she'd never seen him look at anyone like that and was sure she'd crumble on the spot had that look been directed at her.

"What's the matter with you?" the soldier demanded, pushing Longshot again. Smellerbee found herself standing up, ready to leap in. "Can't you _talk_?" And on the last word his fist swung forward and got Longshot in the stomach. He bent over double, his face contorted in pain.

"Hey!" Smellerbee was so quick she sent chairs and even an empty table flying in her mad dash for the soldiers. They were in a circle now, blocking Longshot and his assailant from view, laughing and cheering. Smellerbee pushed through them and saw, to her horror, Longshot on the ground, his nose bleeding and swollen, still being kicked by his attacker.

"Get up, earth monkey," he said. Longshot's body contorted under the pain of the blow.

Smellerbee grabbed the soldier, spun him to face her, and punched him full in the face. Blood gushed from his nose. Smellerbee's face curled into a vindictive smile but she didn't have time to revel in it because one of the other soldiers was snarling, "You've done it now, boy," as he reached out to grab her.

She knocked his arm away from her with a single, swift blow and immediately ducked to kick his legs out from under him. Two of the others managed to get a grip on her and they lifted her to her feet. The last soldier looked at her and said, "You'll be having the same thing as your friend, then," before his fist collided into Smellerbee's gut. She gasped for air and watched the man's smug expression. Her blood boiled. She'd seen that look before on a soldier's face. On Chang's. She brought her knee up and got him right where he didn't want to be hit. As he fell to the ground, clutching himself and moaning in agony, Smellerbee moved to punch the two holding her in the same places, and the mere threat of it was enough; they let go.

She spun to look at them, but she saw Longshot still lying on the floor, now unconscious, and was reminded of why she was in the brawl in the first place. She moved towards him, but the soldier she'd struck in the face shouted, "Oh no, you don't," as he pushed her away and he scrambled to his feet. "Hey!" he shouted, staring at her. "It's a _girl_!" Terror seized her. She was in danger – more danger now. She could see it, sense it, practically taste it in the air. The few people left in the restaurant were looking on in horror, too afraid to move. Nobody wanted to stand up to the soldiers. She was alone.

But she wasn't going to wait for them to strike first. She seized a barstool and hit the nearest soldier over the head with it. She swung it in front of her again, keeping the others at bay as their fellow slumped to the ground. For a moment, nobody moved. But then the one who'd picked her out as a girl, obviously the leader, shouted, "Get her!"

She knew she'd have to beat them all to get away. And if she didn't . . . She pushed the thought from her mind and turned her attention to the next closest soldier. She used the bar stool as a battering ram, hitting him with all her strength in the stomach. He stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. There were only two left, but one had withdrawn a sword. He swung his blade just as Smellerbee whipped the barstool around. He cut the stool, leaving Smellerbee holding jagged pieces of wood. She went after the man's wrist, the rough edges of the wood ripping the fabric of the man's uniform and tearing through his skin, raising blood and making him drop the sword as he cried out in pain. Smellerbee dragged the sword backwards with her foot. She couldn't afford to bend and pick it up – it would mean opening herself up to attack – but she could keep him away from it.

The soldier who had dropped it stared at her in frightened awe and backed away slowly.

"Get back here, coward!" The leader bellowed at him, but the soldier didn't listen. He kept backing away. The leader turned back to Smellerbee.

"You little bitch," he snarled. "I'll teach you. I'll teach you."

With a single, swift movement he withdrew his sword and pointed it at Smellerbee. Her back was to the bar. There was nowhere to go, except –

She leapt up onto a barstool and onto the bar itself, staring down at him. He swung the sword at her feet and she leapt over it, landing behind the bar, hoping it would provide some sort of barrier between them. But with agility she hadn't expected, the soldier leapt on top of the bar, towering over her, his face curling into an evil smile.

His foot swung out so fast Smellerbee didn't even have time to duck. It connected with her chest, forcing her back into the shelves of drinks behind her. She fell to the ground, surrounded by broken glass. She tried to get up but felt the soldier's foot on her back. He'd leapt down to join her behind the bar. She twisted madly, trying to get him off. She managed to turn over on her back, but before she could start to stand the soldier put his sword to her neck.

"I suggest you stay put," he said in a dangerously calm voice.

Smellerbee couldn't speak. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes and she found herself shaking her head slightly, staring up at the soldier. She heard no sounds at all except for the soldier's breathing and her heartbeat.

The soldier let the sword fall beside her with a loud clatter and he dropped to his knees, straddling Smellerbee, pinning her arms down with his hands. Smellerbee struggled but the soldier was muscular and powerful, and his weight was crushing her, forcing the air out of her lungs. Tears now streamed from her eyes and, as if from a distance, she heard herself say, "Please," but the soldier grabbed her face, his rough fingers pressing into her skin, and said, "Shut up."

Smellerbee kept her eyes locked on his, but he'd released one of her hands – the one nearest the sword he'd dropped. She reached out and felt the blade. Her hand traveled up the length of the sword until she felt the hilt. The soldier didn't notice because he was glaring at Smellerbee, his face inches from hers, muttering, "You stupid little earth monkey . . . I'll teach you. You think you can get away with anything. You thought you could beat my men? _I'll teach you_." Smellerbee's hand closed around the handle of the sword. The soldier was still talking as she raised it slowly, as best as she could without moving too much. "If you think you can just – _aghh_!" Smellerbee had cut a slash in the arm holding her and blood poured from the wound. He released Smellerbee and she was able to sit up slightly, holding the sword to the soldier's neck.

"Get. Off. Me." Smellerbee snarled. The soldier nearly toppled off of her backwards in his haste. Smellerbee stood up, looking down at the soldier, who was still on his knees in front of her, his eyes flicking between the blade at his throat and Smellerbee's face.

Smellerbee was breathing heavily, her heart pounding. She was only vaguely aware of the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on her, waiting to see what she'd do.

She wanted to kill him. She wanted to bring the sword down on his head and watch him bleed to death. She'd never known rage like this.

She raised the sword. She saw the terror in the soldier's eyes.

When she brought it down, she struck him with the hilt, knocking him out. He fell to the ground, bleeding from a new gash on his head.

"Smellerbee?"

She started and turned around. Jet was standing in the doorway, looking at her with complete bewilderment. She stared at him as he surveyed the scene, taking in the broken glass, the fallen soldiers, and finally, Longshot.

"Longshot!" Jet said, and he rushed towards him. He bent over Longshot and put two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief and then said, "Smellerbee, what the hell happened?"

"We have to get him out of here," Smellerbee said, staring at Longshot.

"But what hap–"

"We have to get him out of here!" Smellerbee insisted, looking at Jet, desperate.

"Okay," Jet said, nodding, watching Smellerbee closely. "Okay. Let's go."

Together, they managed to pull Longshot, who was still unconscious, into a standing position. They put his arms around their shoulders and walked him out between them, his feet dragging on the ground as they went. The people still inside the restaurant said nothing to them as they walked, but they stared openly. Jet and Smellerbee made it through the deserted streets to the ceramic shop, around to the back door they always came and went through. They managed to get Longshot up the stairs and they put him in his bed.

Jet looked down at him and said, "We won't know how bad the damage is until he

wakes up." Smellerbee nodded, staring at Longshot's motionless form.

She had to get away. She went to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red and she had small cuts and scrapes on her face, but there would be no lasting physical damage. She knew that. The thought gave her no comfort. She felt hollow, empty. As if she had fallen away inside of herself and was lost.

She turned on the tap, watching the water flow without really seeing it. When the sink was full, she turned off the water. She stared at her broken and distorted reflection. Then, she plunged her head under and screamed.


	32. Cut

Chapter 32: Cut

Smellerbee screamed and screamed, the water making it sound distant in her ears. She didn't know how long she was under when she suddenly felt someone grabbing her from behind and pulling her out, shouting her name.

"Smellerbee! _Smellerbee_!"

It was Jet, hands on her shoulders, staring into her face. Her dripping hair hung in front of her eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked. Smellerbee raised a hand to brush her hair away. She looked up at Jet, at a complete loss for what to say.

"I'm . . . I'm okay," she said at last.

Jet looked angry for a moment, like he wanted to shake her and demand an explanation, but instead, he just pulled her into a hug and said, "Don't do that to me, Smellerbee. Don't scare me like that." Smellerbee simply nodded into his chest, shivering as the water trickled down her back. They stood there for several moments before Smellerbee pulled away and said, "We should check on Longshot." She pushed past Jet and went out to the main room.

Longshot had turned on his side, which Smellerbee took as a good sign. He could move, at least. She watched his chest expand and contract as he breathed.

Then, as if following orders, she grabbed her rucksack from its place on the floor, sat on the edge of her bed, and started digging. She was thinking about the soldiers and the look the lead soldier got in his eye when he realized she was a girl. He'd looked at her like a predator at his prey. She knew what she had to do. She pulled out the little sewing kit she'd brought with her when she'd run away from home. She had thought it might be useful somehow, and now she was proven right. She opened the little drawstring bag and pulled out her scissors.

"What are you doing with those?" Jet asked warily, moving to stand beside Longshot's bed, so he was in her field of vision but not directly in front of her. She took no notice of him.

Smellerbee dropped the sewing kit and pulled off her blue headband. Then, she started cutting her hair.

"Smellerbee?" Jet pleaded, but she didn't respond. She kept cutting away until her hair was no more than an inch long all over. She could tell just by running her hands through it that it was a rough and uneven job, but she didn't care. She put the scissors away and brushed all of the cut hair off of herself. "What's going on?" Jet asked, sounding helpless. He seemed afraid to approach her, as though she were a wild animal who might lash out at him if he got too near.

"It's just easier for everyone if I'm a boy, okay?" Smellerbee said, not looking at him.

"What?"

"You don't get it, do you?" she asked, turning to face him. "It's so easy for you. People see you, Jet. They don't expect anything else."

"What do you –"

"When the soldiers thought I was a boy, they wanted to beat me up. When they thought I was a girl . . ." she shook her head. How could she make him understand? "People think I'm a boy anyway. I might as well make it easy for them by being one."

"But, Smellerbee –"

"Please," she said. "Just let it go." The exhaustion and desperation in her voice must have been enough because he nodded.

"But just so you know . . . all I care about is that you're a Freedom Fighter. Whoever you are other than that . . . that's who you are to me."

Smellerbee didn't know what to say to this.

The sound of rustling caught her attention and she turned to see Longshot moving in his bed, eyes still shut. He turned over and over and finally fell still again. Smellerbee found her eyes welling up slightly as she looked at him. There were cuts and bruises on his face and arms and Smellerbee couldn't help but feel that they were her fault.

"Smellerbee . . . you have to tell me what happened," Jet said, sitting down on Longshot's bed by his feet. "I need to know."

Smellerbee told him, but she kept her eyes on Longshot. She told Jet about how the fight between Longshot and the soldiers had broken out. How she did the best that she could and fought them off, but the last one cornered her. She'd held it together just fine, but she found her voice starting to break as she described that final encounter.

"The last one, he . . . Well, I jumped behind the bar and he knocked me over. He said that . . . that he'd _teach_ me. And he dropped his sword . . . and he got on top of me . . ." Smellerbee had to stop. She took a deep breath. She glanced at Jet and saw that he was very white, his eyes wide and horrified as he stared at her. Smellerbee felt inexplicable shame creeping up on her, threatening to silence her. She looked back at Longshot. "I managed to get his sword and got him off of me. I thought . . . I thought I might kill him," she admitted. "But I just knocked him out. And then you came in."

"I came in when you were standing over him," Jet said quietly. "I thought you were going to kill him, too."

There was a long silence.

"I shouldn't have left," Jet said.

"I should have fought them off sooner," Smellerbee said, looking at the blood on Longshot's face.

"No," Jet said firmly, reaching out and taking Smellerbee's hands in his own. She looked up at him and was surprised to see that he looked near tears. "I shouldn't have left you. I insisted that we stay here, and then I left." He looked down as though ashamed, staring at their intertwined hands. "I don't want you carrying blame that belongs to me."

"What are we going to do?" Smellerbee asked.

"Wait until Longshot's well enough to travel, then get out of here."

"What if the soldiers get here before Longshot gets better?" Smellerbee asked. She couldn't bring herself to voice the other question on her mind: _What if Longshot never gets better?_

"If they do, we'll deal with it," Jet said. "But I don't think they will. We should be able to –"

There was a knock at the door.


	33. Losses

Chapter 33: Losses

Jet and Smellerbee both stood up at the sound of the knocking.

"It's them," Smellerbee whispered automatically. "The soldiers."

"It can't be – they were out cold when we left," Jet said, but he didn't sound certain. Smellerbee went to the corner where their weapons lay. She handed Jet his hooked swords, put her dagger in her belt, and grabbed her own swords. She and Jet stood by the door, and there was another knock. They looked at each other, and Smellerbee nodded, raising her sword. Jet opened the door.

"Put that down and let us in!" It was Ms. Zhu, with Suzume close behind her. Slightly stunned, Smellerbee stepped aside and the two women came in. Jet shut the door.

"You're okay!" Suzume gasped, hugging Jet.

"Yeah, I'm all right," he said, dropping his swords and putting his arms around Suzume.

"One of my mother's friends was there and she said the ceramic shop refugees had gotten into a fight with some soldiers," Suzume said, and she sounded on the verge of tears. "She said one of them was knocked out, maybe dead, and I thought . . ."

"We're fine," Jet said. "Longshot's still out but he's breathing okay."

"Let me see him," Suzume said, pulling away from Jet. She had a bag with her and she held it up. "I brought some stuff to help."

Jet looked at her for a second, then kissed her.

When it was over, Suzume, blushing furiously, walked over to Longshot and knelt beside him to start her examination.

"While she's taking care of that," Ms. Zhu said to Smellerbee, turning to face her, "You need to tell me what happened."

"They attacked Longshot," Smellerbee said defensively. "I had to help him."

"I know you did," Ms. Zhu responded. "But the soldiers won't see it that way. They'll be after you. So I need to know exactly what happened."

Smellerbee told the story, except for the details about her struggle with the final soldier. She could sense Jet looking at her as she reached that part.

"When it was just the one left . . . I managed to get his sword from him and hit him over the head with it. Then Jet came back. We got Longshot out of there," Smellerbee finished. She glanced at Jet. He looked concerned still, but he said nothing.

"And the soldiers?"

"They were still out. Everyone was too scared to get near them."

"Good," Ms. Zhu said. "It'll take them a while to wake up, possibly even to remember what happened. Then it'll take a while for them to track you down."

"I can't find any broken bones," Suzume announced, her hands moving over Longshot's ribs. "His nose looks bad but it's not broken." She reached into her bag and pulled out a little bottle of something and a handkerchief. She poured the greenish liquid onto the handkerchief and started wiping the blood from under Longshot's nose until it was all gone. Longshot started to stir slightly. Smellerbee held her breath as she watched. Suzume moved her hands away and watched, too, but Longshot went still again. Suzume continued, pulling out more items from her bag, cleaning and covering Longshot's wounds.

When she'd finished, she turned to Smellerbee.

"Now you," she said.

"What?"

"You're hurt," Suzume said. "Sit down."

At a look from Jet, Smellerbee obeyed. She sat on the edge of her bed and allowed Suzume to inspect the cuts and scratches on her face and arms. As with Longshot, Suzume cleaned the wounds with some solution that stung a little and then covered them with a paste from a tin that dried into a sort of protective covering. Without asking, Smellerbee knew it to be a salve of Suzume's own concoction.

"Thank you," Smellerbee said when Suzume had finished. Suzume just nodded and handed Smellerbee her bag of items.

"You and Longshot are both going to need some of this. There's stuff to heal bruising, bring down inflammation, clean cuts, and there's some tea that reduces pain . . . I labeled everything."

"Thanks, Suzume," Jet said.

"And if you need anything else, you know where to find me," Suzume said. "My mother didn't want me to come out here, but I had to check on you. Please, let me know what you decide to do. And if there's any way I can help." Jet nodded, but Smellerbee saw that he wasn't meeting Suzume's eyes. "I have to go," she said. "But I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Jet said, still not looking directly at her. A look of worry flickered across Suzume's face. Jet noticed this. He pulled Suzume into a tight hug and said, "Thank you. For everything." Smellerbee knew what that meant. He was saying goodbye. She'd known from the moment she started fighting the soldiers that they would have to go, but seeing Jet like this solidified it. She'd lost her home to the Fire Nation once again. How many more times would she have to go through this? And why did it seem to get harder each time?

Jet kissed Suzume again, but it was harder, deeper, more intense. Smellerbee looked away to give them some privacy. When they broke apart, Jet held Suzume's hand in his as he walked her to the door. He stood there, watching her all the way down the stairs. When he turned back to face them, Smellerbee could see a shine to his eyes that meant he was fighting tears. He wouldn't look at her, but stared down at Longshot.

"We have to figure out what you three are going to do," Ms. Zhu said brusquely. "They'll obviously find you here eventually, but I'm thinking that we might be able to hide you three up the mountain. Between Suzume and I, we should be able to bring you the supplies you need –"

"No. We're getting out of here," Jet said.

"I have a sister just a few miles form here who might be willing to –"

"No," Jet said firmly. "The soldiers will figure out who we are. If you help us, they'll know. And I don't know what they'll do to you, but it won't be good. So as soon as Longshot's ready to travel, we're out of here."

"I won't let you just –"

"The Fire Nation is already after me," Smellerbee interjected. "And both of them. Him especially," she said, pointing at Jet. "If you help us, you'll be in danger."

"And if I don't, you'll be in even more danger. If I hide you –"

"No. You've done enough for us. We'll leave first thing tomorrow. We'll be all right."

Jet, Smellerbee, and ms. Zhu all turned to look at Longshot. He was sitting up in bed, looking at them all with determination.

It was he who had spoken.

For several moments, there was silence.

"Very well, then," Ms. Zhu said at long last, sounding resigned. "I'm going to gather some things for you to take. And I might as well smash up my shop a little so when the Fire Nation comes knocking I can tell them you three robbed me and ran. That way they won't expect me to know where you've gone."

"Good plan," Jet said. "I'll help you. Let's do it now." Smellerbee got the feeling he needed to do something to keep himself from running after Suzume. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. Smellerbee knew that too well. "Smellerbee – I'll be back in a few minutes. You should start packing everything up. Longshot . . . I'm glad you're feeling better." Jet's eyes lingered on Longshot for a moment, and Longshot nodded. Jet nodded back and followed Ms. Zhu out the door and down the stairs. Smellerbee, meanwhile, hadn't taken her eyes off of Longshot since he had spoken.

When the door closed behind Jet and Ms. Zhu, Longshot glanced at Smellerbee but looked quickly away.

"I'm not going to ask you to talk," Smellerbee said quietly, correctly interpreting Longshot's evasiveness. He looked back at her. _Thank you_.

"You're awake now, though," Smellerbee said, and she found herself smiling for the first time in what felt like years. "How are you feeling?"

Longshot looked down at himself and shifted a little, wincing slightly. _It hurts_.

"Where?"

He gave her an almost exasperated look._ Everywhere_.

"Suzume gave you this," Smellerbee said, handing him the bag. "She said she had tea for pain in there. I can make you some, if you want." Longshot shook his head. _I'll be okay_.

"Will you be okay to travel tomorrow?" Smellerbee asked. Longshot nodded firmly.

There was a pause, then Longshot gave Smellerbee a questioning look.

_You really aren't going to ask me?_

"What?"

Longshot shrugged. _I just . . . I talked. I thought you'd freak out_.

Smellerbee just shrugged. "I guess I'm just happy you're all right."

Longshot looked down at the floor for a moment, then up at Smellerbee. She could sense his vulnerability. _So . . . you don't expect me to talk all the time now?_

Smellerbee shook her head.

_You won't . . . make me?_

"I would never make you talk," she promised.

Longshot nodded, and she could see tears gathering in his eyes. He shook his head as if to shake the tears away and then he looked back at Smellerbee, his eyes on her hair.

"Oh, yeah," Smellerbee said. "I . . . I cut it. I just thought . . . it felt like the right thing to do." Longshot simply nodded, and Smellerbee was grateful for that.

Smellerbee felt on the verge of tears again. She stood up and turned away from Longshot, looking at their apartment.

"We need to start packing everything. Everything we can, at least –"

She felt Longshot's fingertips brushing the back of her hand and turned to look at him.

_What happened?_

Smellerbee let out a laugh that was nearly a sob. "I should have seen that one coming. I was hoping you wouldn't ask me."

_What happened?_ Longshot looked concerned now.

Smellerbee considered brushing him off, promising to tell him later. But she didn't want to keep reliving it. If she did it now, she'd be done.

She sat on the edge of her bed, directly across from Longshot. Her elbows were on her knees and her hands twisted and untwisted as she spoke, staring at them without seeing them. She explained it all as she had explained it to Jet, but this time she could not keep herself together so well. By the time she got to her encounter with the final soldier, tears were falling down her face and she refused to look at Longshot, who was by then sitting up all the way on the edge of his bed, his feet on the floor, their knees nearly touching.

"And then . . . Jet came back . . . so we got you out," Smellerbee managed to choke out. She felt so fragile and she hated it. She saw Longshot's hand enter her field of vision and she expected him to take her hand in his own, but instead, he pinched the space between her forefinger and thumb and Smellerbee felt her tears subside. She looked up at Longshot. His face was set in that hard, determined expression again. _You are strong_. He wasn't telling her not to cry; he just knew she wanted to stop. He was giving her the tool she needed.

He withdrew his hand and Smellerbee resumed pinching the skin, keeping her tears at bay. Longshot, meanwhile, reached up and brushed her hair with his fingertips. _And this?_

Smellerbee shook her head. "I thought it would be easier to be a boy. I thought we would all be safer if I was someone else . . ."

Longshot shook his head.

"I just hate that nobody sees me," she said. For a moment she thought she should explain what she meant, but Longshot shook his head again. _I understand_.

"I didn't know what to do," she confessed. Longshot put a hand on her shoulder and stared her down. _You know who you are_.

"But everyone else –"

Longshot shook his head. _It doesn't matter. You know who you are._

"Thanks, Longshot," Smellerbee said quietly. They sat there for a moment, Longshot looking hard at Smellerbee and Smellerbee looking awkwardly down at the floor. Eventually, she stood up and said, "I need to pack up, if we're going to be leaving tomorrow." Longshot nodded and moved to get up but Smellerbee said, "No, you rest. I can take care of it." Longshot looked for a moment like he was going to insist on helping, but Smellerbee could tell he was tired. Within minutes, he was asleep again.

Smellerbee looked around the place. When they had moved in, it was bare. Now, it seemed so thoroughly theirs she couldn't quite imagine clearing everything out. There were stray socks littering the floor in places – one of Longshot's habits. There was a vase of flowers on the countertop that Ling and Maylin had brought them because Ms. Ashida didn't want them anymore. The cooking utensils they'd collected over the weeks filled the counters and cabinets. They'd even bought green towels and dishcloths, which hung in the bathroom and kitchen, markers of inhabitation.

Smellerbee knew that they would have to leave all the trappings of their new life behind. They couldn't carry them all. They would have to start from scratch.


	34. Scratch

Chapter 34: Scratch

Jet returned within an hour.

"How is he?" he asked, looking at Longshot.

"I think he's going to be okay," Smellerbee said. "He seemed fine, just tired. And bruised, I'm sure, but he'll get through it."

"Good," Jet said absently, nodding and looking around. Smellerbee had packed all three of their rucksacks with their most important possessions and lined them up neatly by the door. "Are we already set to go?" he asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," Smellerbee said. "But I think it would be best if we wait until morning."

Jet nodded. "Right before sunup we'll head out. We might have to move slower because of Longshot, but we should be okay. Ms. Zhu and I made the shop look pretty good – well, bad –"

"What did you do?" Smellerbee asked.

"We used some of the dried pieces she was going to smash anyway to make it look like there was a fight. And she gave herself a few scrapes and bruises, which was a nice touch – I told her not to," Jet said in response to Smellerbee's look of outrage. "But she said if the soldiers come in tomorrow and find her looking like nothing happened while her shop was destroyed, they'll get suspicious."

"So, what's she going to do?"

"Wait for them. She said she'll stay in the shop until she hears them coming and then she'll just pretend she got knocked out when we robbed her."

"And if they ask her where we went?"

"She's going to say we headed southeast, into the mountains."

"Where will we really be going?" Smellerbee asked tentatively.

"Northwest," Jet said. "Where the Fire Nation can't follow us. We're going to Ba Sing Se."

**:–:–:–:**

Jet and Smellerbee took turns sleeping that night, one of them always awake and listening for sounds of approaching soldiers. When it was Smellerbee's watch, she sat in the patch of moonlight coming in from the window and watched the steady rise and fall of Longshot and Jet's chests. The night was so quiet and still there might have been nothing wrong. They might just wake up tomorrow and resume their lives . . . But she knew better than to let hope run away with her.

She thought about Ba Sing Se. She had been there once when she was small. She remembered that it was a beautiful city. Big and bright. She remembered living in a large house with her family for a few weeks, a vacation of sorts while her father attended to business in the city. She and Chihiro had wrestled in the garden and he had thrown her in the fountain at the end of it. Smellerbee smiled, remembering the little girl she had been, springing out of the fountain, soaking wet, leaping on Chihiro's back and wringing out her long hair over his head so he, too, was soaked. They had laughed, and Chihiro had pretended to be an ostrich-horse, carrying Smellerbee all around the garden. Smellerbee could remember every detail down to the smell of her brother's hair, and his absence cut a fresh wound in her heart.

Smellerbee wondered if, somehow, her brother was thinking of the same thing. Thinking of her. Maybe he was lying awake in a cell, wondering what had become of his little Bee. Smellerbee shook her head, and could feel her eyes sting with tears. She tried not to think of her brother. She thought about the route they'd need to take to Ba Sing Se, she thought of the money they'd made from Ms. Zhu and tried to calculate how far it would get them. She set her mind firmly on the practical and let it occupy her until the sky started to lighten and she knew dawn was on its way.

She woke up Longshot first and told him to grab anything that might have been left behind and to pack up his bedding. He nodded and yawned and started to move. Smellerbee could see his bruises, which had blossomed fully overnight, purpling the pale skin of his arms. She wondered how many more he had, hidden from sight under his clothes. She turned away, trying to ignore the stiffness in his movements as he climbed out of bed.

"Jet, it's time to go," she whispered, shaking him slightly. He sat up so suddenly that Smellerbee leapt back with a gasp of surprise.

"Sorry," he said. "Dreams."

"It's okay," Smellerbee said. "Just get ready to go."

It didn't even take a full ten minutes for the Freedom Fighters to gather up their last scattered items, tie their pillows and sleeping bags to their rucksacks, and stand at the door, ready.

Longshot picked up his back first but seemed to sway slightly under its weight.

"Give me that," Jet said, taking it from him. Longshot tried to protest but Jet wouldn't let him have his bag back. Instead, Jet tied the bag to his own and pulled both on. Smellerbee looked at him appraisingly for a moment, checking if he could handle back. Jet nodded.

"Let's go," Smellerbee said. Jet led the way out the door and down the stairs. Longshot followed. Smellerbee took one last look around at their apartment before she shut the door behind her and followed her friends out into the daybreak.

**:–:–:–:**

It was easy enough to dart through the still-sleeping houses and into the forest. The refugees saw no one, Fire Nation or otherwise, and decided that if they stayed silent, there was no reason they couldn't walk along the forest's main path. They'd hear anyone coming, and besides, the soldiers (if they'd even started searching for them yet) would be looking in the opposite direction.

No, it wasn't the Fire Nation that worried Smellerbee, but Longshot. He was slower than usual and Smellerbee was sure his injuries would catch up with him eventually, she just wasn't sure when.

They walked for an hour before they stopped for breakfast. They still had some fruit and bread they'd taken from their apartment, and they ate it in a small clearing a short distance from the main path. Longshot had tried to decline, but Smellerbee insisted that he eat something. His eyes looked distant and exhausted, and although he nodded each time Smellerbee asked if he was feeling okay, she knew better. She and Jet had exchanged a look – _should we stop?_ – but Longshot had stood up and tried to put on his rucksack, but Jet wouldn't let him. Clearly exasperated, his jaw set firm and defiant, Longshot simply started walking back towards the main road. Jet and Smellerbee followed, but they kept a close eye on him as they walked.

For several hours, they saw no one and did not speak at all. Jet was in the lead, Smellerbee a few steps behind him, and Longshot just behind her. Smellerbee was so exhausted, so absorbed in her own thoughts, wondering if Ling and Maylin had yet been told of their flight, if the Fire Nation had set out after them, that she didn't notice Longshot falling behind. Just a few steps at first, which grew into a few yards, until midday when he was nearly a hundred yards behind her, his feet dragging, his eyes sliding in and out of focus, stumbling over rocks and sticks. But it wasn't until Smellerbee heard him crash to the ground that she turned.

"Longshot!" Her voice rang through the forest, startling several birds out of their trees.

"Smellerbee," hissed Jet. "Quiet!" But he, too, saw Longshot sprawled on the ground, struggling to get up, and he hurried over with Smellerbee to help him.

"Are you okay?" Smellerbee asked, bending down beside him.

Longshot nodded but covered his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the trees. A headache.

"Can you get up?" Smellerbee asked.

Longshot nodded again, but he could barely raise his torso up on his arms before he fell back.

"Do you hear that?" Jet whispered. The three refugees went still, and indeed, they could hear distant movement. Marching.

"We have to get out of here!" Smellerbee said. Longshot's eyes were wide and desperate. _Just go, I'll be okay . . . _But he couldn't even drag himself to the side of the road. And the marching was growing louder. There was a bend in the road ahead of them, and they didn't know how long it would be before the soldiers appeared around it.

"Take this," Smellerbee said, taking off her rucksack and looking at Jet. He did so, quickly attaching it to his own and Longshot's before pulling them all on. The weight of it bent him over but he said nothing. "Come on," Smellerbee said to Longshot. She pulled him up and onto her back, holding his legs around her torso as his arms wrapped around her neck, the way Chihiro had once done for her in play. Longshot was thin but he was also tall and very strong, which made him heavier than he looked. Smellerbee could feel her muscles straining, but there was no time for pain now. "Let's go!" She moved off the main path and into the trees.

"_Halt_!" they heard a voice call in the distance. Smellerbee started running as best as she could with Longshot on her back. She could feel his grip tighten around her neck. She could hear Jet moving behind her, making a lot of noise as the bags pushed aside bushes and branches.

They ran for a half a mile before Smellerbee, exhausted, saw the remains of a massive and ancient tree, half the trunk eaten away by insects, leaving something of a den behind. She lay Longshot down inside of it and collapsed beside him. Jet stumbled in after them. Smellerbee and Jet were both breathing heavily. Longshot looked like he was about to pass out, but before he did, his hand found Smellerbee's and gave it a gentle squeeze. _Thank you_.

"Did they follow us?" Smellerbee asked.

"I'm not sure," Jet said. "If they did, we lost them. And I'm not sure how much effort they'll put into tracking us down. They can't know who we are or that we're wanted. They probably stop everyone they pass."

"He can't travel like this," Smellerbee said. "We should have stopped sooner."

"I know," Jet said, his voice strained with guilt. "Maybe we can stay here for a day or two. Travel slower. "

Smellerbee nodded. She looked down at the unconscious Longshot. She was so used to him being there for her. There was a quiet indestructibility about him she had depended on so completely and confidently she had not noticed until it was gone. She could see the bruises from last night's fight on his face and arms, now marked with small scrapes from running through the trees.

"Where's the bag Suzume gave us?" Jet asked.

"In mine," Smellerbee said. Get that out. And the kettle –"

"You brought the kettle?" Jet said, sounding slightly incredulous. Smellerbee simply nodded. Jet opened Smellerbee's bag and found the little sack from Suzume that held the medicines and salves. He found a handkerchief and a small bottle of something to clean out Longshot's fresh wounds. Smellerbee watched at Jet worked, speaking softly to Longshot although he could not hear him.

"The bottle says this might sting, but you'll be okay . . . It'll help you heal faster, too, it says. You'll be fine. We've been through worse."

It was then that Smellerbee remembered that Jet and Longshot had known each other long before she had entered the picture. Years before. Longshot was as much Jet's as he was hers.

"I'll go get firewood," Smellerbee said, standing up. "If we're going to be here for a while, we're going to need it." She left the hollow tree, giving the two boys some time together. She could not tell them how much she needed them, but she could, at least, build them a fire.


End file.
